#central heading pump

[businesspikuk]

Central Heating: The Heart of Your Home’s Comfort

When the chill of winter sets in, there's nothing more comforting than stepping into a warm, cozy home. Central heating systems play a crucial role in maintaining this comfort, making them an indispensable part of modern living. In this blog, we'll explore the benefits of central heating, how to maintain your system, and what to do in case of emergencies.

The Benefits of Central Heating

Even Heat Distribution: Unlike space heaters or radiators, central heating systems provide uniform heat distribution throughout your home. This ensures that every room maintains a consistent temperature, enhancing overall comfort.

Energy Efficiency: Modern central heating systems are designed to be energy-efficient, reducing your utility bills while minimizing your carbon footprint. Advanced thermostats and zoning capabilities allow you to heat specific areas only when needed, further conserving energy.

Health Benefits: Central heating systems help maintain optimal indoor humidity levels, preventing mold growth and reducing the prevalence of dust mites and other allergens. This creates a healthier living environment for you and your family.

Increased Property Value: Homes equipped with modern central heating systems often have higher market values. Prospective buyers see the value in a well-maintained and efficient heating system, making your property more attractive.

Maintenance Tips for Central Heating Systems

To ensure your central heating system operates efficiently, regular maintenance is essential. Here are some tips to keep your system in top condition:

Annual Servicing: Schedule a professional inspection and servicing of your central heating system at least once a year. This helps identify potential issues before they become major problems.

Check Thermostat Settings: Ensure your thermostat is functioning correctly and set to the appropriate temperature. Consider upgrading to a programmable thermostat for better control and energy savings.

Bleed Radiators: Over time, air can become trapped in your radiators, reducing their efficiency. Bleed your radiators regularly to release any trapped air and improve heat distribution.

Inspect Ductwork: Leaks or blockages in your ductwork can cause your system to work harder than necessary. Inspect and clean your ducts periodically to maintain optimal airflow.

Replace Filters: Dirty filters can restrict airflow and reduce efficiency. Replace or clean your filters regularly, especially during peak heating seasons.

Handling Central Heating Emergencies

Despite regular maintenance, central heating systems can sometimes fail, especially during the coldest months when they are needed the most. In such cases, having an emergency plumber on speed dial is crucial. Here's what to do in an emergency:

Identify the Problem: Before calling an emergency plumber, try to identify the issue. Common problems include lack of heat, unusual noises, or water leaks. Providing this information can help the plumber diagnose and fix the problem more quickly.

Turn Off the System: If you notice any issues, turn off your central heating system to prevent further damage. This is particularly important if you suspect a gas leak or a major water leak.

Call an Emergency Plumber: Contact a reputable emergency plumber immediately. Ensure they are experienced with central heating systems and available 24/7. Quick action can prevent further damage and restore your heating promptly.

Stay Warm: While waiting for the plumber, use alternative heating sources like space heaters or electric blankets to stay warm. Keep doors closed to retain heat in occupied rooms.

Conclusion

Central heating is essential for maintaining a comfortable and healthy home environment. Regular maintenance and knowing how to handle emergencies can ensure your system runs smoothly year-round. By staying proactive and having a reliable emergency plumber on call, you can enjoy the peace of mind that comes with a warm and cozy home, even in the coldest weather.

[lacybunie]

him.

“you’ll never feel this pretty again.”

pairing: afab!reader x leon kennedy

warnings: smut, slight intoxication, choking, rough leon, one night stand, strength kink, squirting, reader does NOT know leon (or even his name), consensual, mentions of breakup, small blood mention, praising, comparison central, heavy mentions of an ex, oral mention (fem receiving), fluff at the end.

there’s a fever creeping its way through your body with each thrust he makes into your sobbing cunt. every moan that slips past your blood-bitten lips has his jaw clenched. his hips never faulting, only picking up the pace if it was even possible. his fingers are burning their imprint into your hips, the irritated reds contrast with the dark blues in his eyes. the only reminders of him you’ll ever have after tonight. you cannot recall a time where you felt this much, your body never experiencing a high such as this. let alone, experience being fucked like this. he grabs at your throat, squeezing just enough for the air you take in to be rough against your lungs. “i could fall for you, you know.” he chuckles.

your eyes squeeze shut to hide your hopeful gaze. the lack of oxygen has your cunt squeezing his cock. the muffled sounds of your own erratic heartbeat and weak whimpers are all you can manage to hear. the grip around your throat loosens for just a moment when he lifts your hips at an angle that gives himself more leverage to fuck his cock deeper in your cunt. the fuzzy feeling left by the alcohol in your head is being numbed by the overwhelming feeling of burning lust. the sight of his muscles contracting with each breath, each thrust, makes your cunt tighten. a moan escapes his lips. you think you just died at the sound. he’s so fucking hot. hotter than your ex, better, stronger, bigger.

“you feel so good.” he says, roughly grasping at your wrists. “never had a pussy this tight.” your wrists are sore in his hands but you’d be damned if you made him stop, to make him go easy on you. you want him to throw you around like you’re nothing, to feel how strong he really is. you smile through a moan, “never had a cock like yours.” he smirks, releasing your wrists from his hold to rest his fingers against your clit. dry tears well up in your eyes as he rubs your clit, taking his cock out momentarily to slap the tip against the puffy nerve. you thrash around pathetically at the oversensitivity, he lets out a chuckle. he shoves his cock back into your cunt, pressing your legs down on the plush mattress, spreading you open. he knows your body well enough already as if he’s studied you his entire life.

the moans and whimpers leaving with the air in your lungs are echoing throughout the room. “sound so sexy.” he groans with his hands digging into your thighs. his cock pumps sweetly in and out of you, the veins wrapped around the base are etched into your throbbing walls. he fucks you better. his hips snap against yours with more purpose, passion, like getting you off is all he wants. your nails scratch at the hands bruising your thighs when his thrusts become painfully sharp but you can’t stop the high you’re getting from it. “want you to cum in me.” you hiccup. your eyes meet his, the blue-black piercing right through you. “want me to knock you up?” he scoffs with a smirk on his lips, you could cum at the proposition.

“i’ll give you anything you want, baby.” he says through gritted teeth while his nails break through the skin of your thighs, crimson droplets paint his fingers. there’s a pang in your chest at the pet name, like your heart is eating itself. why couldn’t your ex ever treat you like this? why did you have to find the admiration you craved from a guy you met at the bar? you can’t stop yourself from crying out in pleasure when he presses his hand down on your lower abdomen, pulling you back to reality. there’s no time to even think with the way he’s fucking you. his cock pounds your abused cervix so sweetly, like your cunt was made for him.

“please.” you don’t know what you’re pleading for, you can’t even feel your face at this point. so fucked out on cock that you don’t remember how you felt before. his hand roughly grabs at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. the blues swirling in his eyes are hypnotic, you feel your orgasm getting closer as you get lost in his gaze. “say it, tell me what you want.” his face is closer to yours, you want to mesh your lips with his, to be completely tangled in his body. but you’re too weak to do anything but moan like a pornstar. his cock is so deep in you that he’d split you open if he bottomed out. “c’mon, use this pretty mouth of yours.” he says against your lips, depriving you of a kiss.

you can see a faint scar below his cheek through your foggy vision. you could die at the way he’s looking at you, with lust and adoration. a look your ex never held. his heavy breathing mixes with the gasping moans you’re letting out, “kiss me, please.” the feeling of his lips colliding with yours sends you over the edge, he kisses you so well as if your lips are a medicine he’s been dying to taste. his tongue collides with yours, feeling you out like he had done with your cunt moments ago. your head spins as your cunt tightens up, pulsating for a sweet release. “can i cum?” you breathe out against his mouth. “you don’t gotta ask, baby. cum on my cock all you want.”

your hazy eyes hit the back of your head as you reach seventh heaven. your sore legs are numb, your nails are piercing into his shoulders which only makes him pound your cunt harder. “there you go. good girl.” the praise is a symphony to your ears, you pathetically cum around his cock hard. the rush is too much for your intoxicated brain, hitting you stronger than when he ate you out like a feast. your moans are broken, strained. you see colors dancing behind your eyelids as you snap them shut. you’re heaving for air that seems like it’ll never come. you feel warm and so wet. “fuck.” he moans, his cock leaves your hole, making you feel empty. yet your thighs and ass feel drenched.

your blurry vision makes you see double as you watch him stroke his cock. he lets out a sweet moan when warm ropes of cum lay atop your stomach, his free hand grips at your waist. you sigh deeply as you finally catch your breath, like you just finished a marathon. his eyes divert down to your cunt, a smug smirk spreads across his lips. “never had a squirter before either.” your eyebrows furrow before sitting up and seeing the soaked sheets underneath you, your thighs covered in your own wet essence. “oh my god, this is so embarrassing.” you huff as you lay back down, hiding your face behind your hands. “i think it’s hot.” he hums, rubbing your sides. you peak behind your fingers to see him smiling softly.

“i can help you clean up.” his voice is hoarse, like he’s drained. his tired eyes blink slowly as he watches you. you almost feel guilty for making such a mess of yourself. “that’ll be nice, thanks.” your fingers lightly soothe over the scratches you left on his hands. “sorry for doing this, um…” your head pounds as you try to remember his name, the lust and faded alcohol still linger. what a terrible person you’ll be if you can’t even remember his name. “leon.” he finishes for you, stifling a laugh. “did i really fuck your brains out?” leon teases, grinning as you roll your eyes.

[astralnymphh]

why is it always about ellie pleasuring us and never about us pleasuring her??? like I wanna edge then and then overstimulate her till she cries 👉👈

right?? like.. ugh especially with a vibrator !! mdni. mama petname used. sub!ellie. bratty behaviour. blah kind of a lazier drabble focused more on dialogue im just practicing for pccb (pretty cunt central, baby: a fic) 1.5k+ wc.

⤹ edging ellie with a vibrator ⋆ . ☣

Hung like a vignette upon her lain body, Ellie was vulnerable. Accelerated in the pump of her blood. Cold of her sweat, beading clammy condensation on her cheeks, a single bang strews itself across that muggy biome of skin— somehow looking darker as it soaks up her wet frustration. The bedspread, however, drank up a lethal amount of her crying sweat. A dull radiograph beneath her, turning lilac hue of her blanket—mauve, marking her body with a vignette of her own.

Ellie on her back, thighs broadened on each side of you, and you fully kneeling with cold toes wedged into the chub of your ass, is your position. Skimpy end of her pubic bush tickled your belly button whenever she scoots closer, eagerly trying to rub her greedy pussy on you— fuck, you cherish those little antsy movements.

"Fuckin'— unhhh— nuhnonono babe, baby.. fuck, c'mon!" her words drove on a groan, snapping into an upset whine when a certain toy was drifted from her beaming cherry clit.

Fun. Fun is what you gain from this, and it fed you with hormones to perceive it in that light. Your thumb planes plumb on a flat button, the surrounding indentation kissing your print as you let it sit softly, no vibrations to numb it.

Ellie chases your detach with her hips bucking and legs arisen, sticking out her cunt for that damn toys' bulbous head, "Mama— please, fuck.." the whine leavens, straining in her clench of stress.

She is so fucking handsome, cute— alurring with that glassy daisy nose. Buttony and speckled like a daisys lemony pistil, but glossy as a pearl washed upon a rocky cove, orb of luster on the tip to prove it. Fairest terra of her skin, has gone scarlet against the pale sand of her cupids bow, which she rolls inward to her bottom lip in even more neglect of her edging. Too fucking cute.

"Yeah, you fucking like that?" you flipped the toy on and jabbed it into her clit, provoking her hips to jerk in regret and her legs to clamp in on you— to which you dug your free hand into the plush hind of her thigh, stretching the web of your thumb and pointer, and craning that shit 'till her knee nearly kissed the mattress. Sprawled like a bitch in heat.

"Fuck fuck fuck! N— ohhh my guuh, haah—" Els bolted her eyelids to a creasing shut, scrunching up to her nose as you sunk that vibrator head in vertical drags, watching her pretty pussy lips swallow the ridge of it, "uhhhnn t'can't, cuuhh— uh!" blabbered she.

Your blabbering mess. Jolting up her pussy for you, the bulge of its aroused state really catching your eyes.

"Can't what, baby?" you coo belittleingly.

A nubby mass pushes your nude hips into her butt, thereafter you realize her heel was nudging you close, because she longs for your closeness, to be near when she cums.

Strias of breath warble from her throat, panting in dainty breaks, "Huhh— ha, uhh babe, m'wanna cum for you, cum with my pussy all over y—you, y—yeah.." her tune turns squeaky, enticing you with that weak coo, only to grow pouty and sassy, "stop be— uhhn, being a dick.."

A brow arches in amusement, "What was that?" you curl in feigned curiosity, lifting the whirring bulb with a webbing of her slick gluing from the verge of her hole to the plastic tip.

"Fuck—" a dramatic pulling of pants rise again, chest aswell, vocal chords calming, "you're just getting me back for teasing you, hmm?"

"Yes.." you spur from lying, sounding proud.

Rose buds of her lips curl in as she chugs air, gazing so doey—eyed at you through lashes sodden in faint tears. Those fucking brows curved in at the base of her nose, making her look so— dizzied, like she was about to pass.

She hikes up onto her elbows, pressing her hot buttcheeks harsh into your thighs until they splat. Ellie just knew, by the twist of your words and the crescent carving below your nose, you enjoy this. "God, you.." a sigh leaves her, cheeks inflating, "you fucking like this."

You frill, "Mhm."

"Fuck you."

Faking offense, you dusk your lids to a slit, glaring, "Scuse me?" stern with a smile, you winch a hand behind you— wrapping around another toys girth, "wanna talk t'me like that?" you press the vibrator back to her clit, swerving your other hand 'round and dipping the spade of a purple dildo into her hole— fast, stretching her lips open and bottoming 'till the small silicone balls squished her perineum.

"Shit!" yelped she, sudden lunge of her large mitt now grappling the hand on her thigh and burrowing bowed nail marks deep in your wrist, second hand clawing the cotton sleeve of her pillow.

You smack the balls hard on her wet skin, draining every bit of precum from her filthy gaping pussy— which landslides in between her ass. Drawing strings and strings from her cervix, the squelch arouses your ears, flushing them in heat.

"Yeah?" you silken a muse at her choked and elongated moans, dazzling the front of your knuckles in slick with your speed, "slutty fucking pussy, lookit' her— clenching that cock in."

It hadn't even washed over you that she was already cumming, bubbly sounds of her piped squirt swelling into your ears— thenn the little spurts come and the pooling of white cream licking up the pumping veins spatters your belly, riling you the fuck up. You didn't let up, nuh—uh, not when her raised brows, banshee—wailing mouth and ghastly eyes made you feel hot inside your own cunt, striving for overstimulation.

"Ohhh my god— huhhnn.." Ellie groaned, tatted arm flexing it's veins and yielding pigment from her fingertips.

You slipped the dick out like butter— her labia kissing closed, and slap it down on her swollen folds, noise coiling, getting her to jerk and push out more slicky finish, "There you go— good girl, cummin' for mama?" you steady the vibrator, letting it torture her convulsing clit for an.. untold range of time, whatever floats your boat.

"Uh'huh.."

Nimble as ever, you glissade the dick up her torso, crushing her slobber webbed lips with the pussy—reeked tip, "Mhm, that's right, open up babe.." asking of her with a satiny softness taking over that cold voice.

Spit drools down her chin as she caves her gob over, pupils colliding as she crosses her eyes in, "Ghh— uhhhahnn.."

"Don't talk.." you enlist a ruder tug on her clit with the vibe, forcing all that sweet syrupy cum down that throat of hers in droplets off the dick, "suck that fucking cock.."

Obeying, she rumples the plump coral skin around the thickness and drags them over the texture, pulling them out slightly. Cream white began to build at her pie—hole, cherry pie lips, a la her scarfing gags spitting everything that wanted to travel down. Little 'guh, guh, guhhs' bounced off her larynx, a fucking angel soprano to your ears.

However, she just couldn't stop thrashing. Past her point of please, were her non—verbal pleads of relief. Relief from that whirring device, rolling her butt deeper into the mattress now opposing the chase.

Ellie's quivering right arm fleets up and grabs your wrist, shanking the hell—sworn cock out of her mouth with spit connecting, messy girl, "Nonono, fhck— too much t'much 'tmuhh— ahh~" she gabbles, locking her butt up and humping up into the air void of intention.

Too much.

Too much..

Not enough.

"You know this baby," a bastion of even more pride instills your craving cunt, winding your knees smushed into the bed and crawling over her, body casting dark in your vignette, chastising "Ellie doesn't get a break 'till I cum too, 'kay?" you whisk the toy away, just for a second.

The bitter burn of tears piggyback over her bottom lids, squeezed out like orange juice and glossing like her wet and mucky slit did, both squinting at your actions. A snotty sniffle flows into her woozed words, "C—can I at least tou—uhh, touch you.. babe?" red puffy eyes gazing into yours with such want, skipping momentarily to search for any expressive sign of a reply.

"Sure baby, sit up— but don't close those fucking legs." you accept her ask, watching that ruffly—haired girl scoot up with such excitement.

Ellie sits vanward still, slouching with widely spread legs and a timid hand reaching for your cunt, the contrary paw dropping and fondling the cushion of your butt cause she just couldn't help the urge, tucking her head in the warm hearth of your neck— latching a bite so she may distract herself from what you're about to do.

You take her hand and invite it in, feeling her fingertips divide and tease your folds and her teeth nipping tiny spots of flesh into her dried chuckling mouth like a goat grazing, giving you the green light to creep the toy on her bloated bud, once more.

"I fucking love playing with you."

[ihavethedreamies]

Matter of Pride | Hongjoong

Kim Hongjoong - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.9k

Pairing: Lion-Hybrid!Hongjoong x Gazelle-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical?/Ancient?, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, very tiny mention of noncon, Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet, Love, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Biting & Scratching & Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!Hongjoong (not really, he's a lion hybrid)

Author's Note: Okay, here we go lol. This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny lion cock. Hongjoong is not necessarily bigger than reality, the reader is just small. I did also imagine this more to be set in the steppe of Central Asia/Southern Siberia rather than Africa.

I am planning on doing the other members, might just take some time since we are in the process of moving. I wanted to get this up sooner as well, but I live in Tornado Country™.

-> Series Hub <-

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

🐯 San's 🐯

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

Ever since you were a calf, the elders of your herd told you to stay away from predators. You weren't for sure why thought, since all they told you was that they were dangerous. You found that quite odd considering you were not full animals, and as far as you knew, predator hybrids did not literally eat prey hybrids. There was probably some ancient lore-based superstition or something, and it wasn't till you were older did you really think about the real facts. Despite logically knowing that they weren’t going to eat you alive, you still were a bit scared about meeting a predator.

One day you were traversing the rocky steppe of your homeland, right at the foothills of the mountains. Crouching down, you ran your fingers through the grass, feeling for the tell-tale mound of the root you were looking for. The sun was beginning to set, the cool of late-spring settling in the air.

"No." you grumbled, not feeling anything. Standing back up, your attention was quickly drawn to a new sound. Your furry ear, sticking out from the side of your head, flicked at the noise. The wind shifted and your sensitive smell picked up something unfamiliar, but it triggered a deeper, primal part of you. Predators. Logic tried to fight back against instinct, the sound was voices, not the growls of an actual animal. Still, your heart raced, the sound of blood pumping thudded in your ears. Your furry tail swished back and forth nervously, and despite your apprehensions, you moved toward the voices. Finding a path that led a bit further into the foothills, you saw fresh boot marks. Gently, like doing so would trigger something, you placed your own foot in the print, the size difference was striking. You were not a child, you were actually quite a bit bigger than the other women of your herd, but… A boisterous laugh hit your ears, your head turning toward it on its own, instinctually. Swallowing hard, you followed the tracks and when you came around a large boulder, you peered around it. There was a small clearing created by tall, jutting rocks, and a camp had been set up there. Three figures sat around a firepit, great furry pelts wrapped around their shoulders and necks. Lions. There was a fourth figure, leaning against one of the rocks, making him closest to you. Peering closer, he was beautiful. Sharp eyes and jawline, his hair wasn't as long nor as shaggy as the others. His pelt was much nicer as well, and he was the only one with a tunic shirt on underneath. A large axe-like knife was attached to his belt and he had a deep red cloth tied around his bicep. You felt the end of your tail brushing over the rock as it swayed, your nose twitching as the wind carried their scent. You had a hard time pinpointing the exact fragrance, but the one closest to you was the most potent. And the most pleasant. The three around the fire smelled like the smoke wafting around them, and like sweat and dirt. The other one though, he smelled like spiced tea and fragrant tree bark. The wind shifted again, coming up from behind you, carrying your scent right into the clearing. You barely had time to realize what had happened, trying to back away and completely out of sight, but he noticed. As you ducked to hide, his deep golden-brown eyes met your own. The intense look shot fear through your very DNA and you turned to bolt, using your species' long and fast legs to sprint. You didn't make it very far though, and the back of your tunic was seized and you bleated as you were hauled back. Turning to look at your captor as best as you could, it was the handsome one. He smelled even better so close and looked even better. Your face was hot, for many different reasons, and you wondered if he could smell your fear. Was that an actual thing?

"What's wrong Hongjoong?" One of the other lions called and he was able to hide you with his own body. He wasn't as big as the others, but still a good seven or eight inches taller than you.

"Smelled a doe, I'm going to see if I can get her." He shouted back and they went back to their raucous conversation. The lion holding you wrapped his arm around your middle rather than gripping your tunic and easily carried you around the boulder fully and down the slope. You hung there, not sure what else you could do, and he only let you go when he got to the end of the path that led you in.

"S-sorry!" You spun around to face him, not trusting him at your back, "I wasn't eavesdropping!"

"I'm not worried about that, doll. Be glad the smoke covered your scent for the others."

"W-why? Would they…" You swallowed hard, your quivering obvious to him. So were your twitching ears, and he could see your tunic shifting from your wagging tail.

"Would they eat me?" Your question threw him off, to the point that he flinched back.

"What?" He huffed, "No, of course not. Is that what you were told?" You shrugged, feeling embarrassed now.

"That's not what I'm worried they would do to a cute thing like you." Your arm reached around your back, twisting so you could wrap your fingers around the end of your braid, tugging on it. You couldn't meet his gaze, especially because you understood his implication. Also, you weren't sure how you felt about him calling you cute.

"What are you doing around here? What herd are you with?"

"I was gathering herbs…I'm with the gazelle herd southwest of here." You motioned vaguely behind you.

"What were you looking for?"

"Valerian root. It's too early for the plant to be flowering so it's hard to find." He didn't reply for a bit, glancing behind him.

"There's a big tree, east of your village?"

"Y-yes?" You were a little concerned he knew the area so well, but at the same time if they knew where your herd was, and had left it be, it was probably okay.

"What else have you been looking for?" His change of subject caught you off guard, but you answered.

"Meet me at that tree tomorrow evening, and I'll have some for you. Don't come back this way, those others aren't safe."

"You are, though?" Your question didn't sound as bold as you wanted it to. He chuckled a bit, then exhaled hard through his nose.

"Short answer, yes. I don't want to be working with them, but I don't have a choice right now."

"What do you want in return?" You asked, why would he help you just to be nice. It would be a lot of work to gather the herbs you were looking for.

"We'll see how hard it is, then I'll tell you. Deal?" He held his hand out and you eyed it. Finally, taking it, the strength behind the grip jolted you.

"I'm Hongjoong. Do you have a name I can call you?" He smirked softly and you pulled away from the handshake like he had burned you suddenly.

"(Y/N). About this time?"

"Sure, doll. Now go home, and don't come back here." Hongjoong stepped back and nodded for you to do so. Turning back to look at him a few times as you went, you trotted back home, your bag lighter than you had planned on it being.

All through the next day, your eyes kept flitting to the sun behind the clouds, waiting for it to reach the right point in the sky. You were glad you were the head healer, if you had not come back with a good haul before your mentor retired, she would've swatted your hands. In the beginning, it was weird to return to an empty tent, but after nearly six months, you were used to it. It wasn't like she was dead; it was just weird she wasn't there anymore. Your hands moved on muscle memory as you worked through the day, thoughts spiraling, always returning to the image of the lion you met the day prior. It didn't help that he was so attractive, the encounter would have been significantly less captivating without that factor. It was clear he didn't like his comrades, even past that, his appearance was very different from theirs. He had been standing far away from them as well and had even lied when he found you.

The closer toward the horizon the sun grew, the more distracted you were, and you were so antsy that for the last hour before the designated time, you stood at the edge of the village. Some of your herd had questioned your odd behavior through the day, and you brushed it off, telling them you were thinking hard about where to find more herbs. That time of year was difficult with so many different plants sprouting up, and most people accepted your reasoning. Only your mother wasn't convinced, but she also knew not to press too hard, or you would lose your patience. You didn't have too much of that.

From where you were standing, you could kind of see where the tree was, well, the rock that was hiding it. It was behind the big rock. Glancing up at the darkening sky, you could finally see the twinkling of the northernmost star, and you started to trek out. After you descended the slope, and gotten over the hill after it, you knew you were out of sight, and broke into a quicker pace. For some reason, you were excited. Was it the thrill of doing something that others would frown upon? Was it that you got to bask in the presence of the extremely attractive lion once more?

You reached the boulder faster than normal, it seemed your body was just as eager, and had decided to move faster than your brain realized. Swallowing hard, your hand brushed over the smooth stone surface as you moved around it, peaking around. Feeling a small sense of déjà vu, when you could see around the rock, you saw him under the tree.

"There's no need to hide, doll." His voice was warm and you giggled a little in embarrassment, fully coming around. Right when you got close enough, he took a bundle off his shoulder, leaves poking out from the leather wrap. Taking it gently, you crouched down so you could untie it and look. You gasped seeing everything that was there. Not only did he find everything you needed, but there was also a lot there.

"H-How did you get so much?" You looked up at him from your squat and he shrugged. No verbal response, but you were too grateful to question.

"H-here." You reached into your own bag, your string of coins jingling as you pulled it out.

"No, (Y/N). You don't need to pay me."

"But!" When you moved to give him the coins, he wrapped his fingers over yours so they wrapped around the metal pieces.

"What do you want as payment then?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I have, um. I have this mulled wine my grandfather made…" You went back to your bag, going to unite the cord of the wineskin.

"No."

"Um, okay, I have…" You shuffled stuff around in your bag, looking for the flute you still didn't really know how to play.

"(Y/N). You don't have to give me anything, it’s fine." He was closer then, trying to get you to stop your frantic search. His fingers went to your chin, forcing your head to tip back so you could meet his gaze.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes." He dropped his hand and stepped back once more, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"N-nothing?" You felt bad, it would have taken hours to gather that much.

"If you really want, you can sit and talk to me for a bit?" He suggested and the request flabbergasted you.

"Really?" Hongjoong hummed with a nod, turning so he could move to the tree, sitting at the base in a divot in the large roots. Sitting down next to him, you truly felt small then, scratching at a root with your blunt fingernail. Your eyes went to his own hands, sharp claws sat at the end of each finger. You also had noticed when he smiled, his canine teeth were bigger and sharper. His golden-blonde hair, rounded ears, and tufted tail all screamed that he was a lion, even if his demeanor didn't. He wasn't scary, but he was majestic and beautiful.

"Have you ever met a lion before me?" He rested against the tree trunk and you shook your head.

"Have you ever met a predator?"

"Not really. Just seen them from afar." You picked at a dried bit of some poultice you had made that was stuck on your tunic skirt.

"You weren't as afraid as I thought you would be, then."

"If it had been one of the others, maybe."

"Why was I different?" Hongjoong's gaze on you made your face hot, you couldn't return the look.

"You could have given me away to the others, and you didn't." Yep, that was it. Nothing more to it.

"That's it?" He sounded a bit disappointed.

"Why didn't you?"

"I told you; I don't care for them."

"Then why are you travelling with them?"

"It's hard to be a solo male out here. It's easier to work with a group before I try and get my own pride."

"Oh. So, like, a bunch of wives?"

"More like two or three. Not like full lions, but..." He didn't sound super eager for that.

"Are all lion hybrids like that?"

"More or less. Never appealed to me much, to be honest."

"Really?" This piqued your interest, and you didn't dwell too much on why.

"It's rare for lions to have one spouse, out in the wilds anyway. I've debated leaving for the capital, but…"

"Why not?"

"I don't mind living off the land, but I don't know where else to go to find a wife. Most lionesses also want to be in a pride, like some ancient call."

"Huh."

"Are gazelle monogamous?"

"Hybrids are. Have a shit ton of kids though." Your response made him laugh; the sound rumbled through you.

"Can you roar like a full lion?" You were too curious. You needed to know.

"Uh, no. Can you actually bleat like a full gazelle?"

"Not really…" Now you felt stupid, ears flicking nervously. Your tail thumped a bit on the ground, your eyes meandering down to look at his. It was much longer than yours, like his full animal brethren.

"What about you?"

"Me?"

"Do you want to get married and have a shit ton of kids?" You hummed in thought. No. It was more because you didn't want to be pressed into a mold. Most herbalists never marry, let alone have offspring, that was part of the reason you chose the trade.

"No."

"You even want kids?"

"Don't know. One would be nice, but that's not how it works…" You stared in the distance toward your village.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"I'm the oldest of eleven."

"Fuck." He huffed and his reaction made you burst into a guffaw.

"Yes."

"Is your mother…okay?" This made you laugh harder.

"Uh, I can't imagine five singletons plus three sets of twins would make anyone okay."

"Not your ideal future?"

"Oh, fuck, no." Hongjoong smiled at your obvious newly relaxed state. It was then you noticed the sun had set completely, little white stars twinkling in the dark purple abyss.

"I need to get back!" You shot up, retying the bundle he had given you.

"Wait!" He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. Turning to look back at him, he licked his lips, letting you go.

"Can you meet me back here in two days. Same time?" Your eyes widened a bit at the request, but you felt a smile tug at your lips.

"Yeah, I can."

You did go back when he asked.

"You came!" Hongjoong seemed genuinely surprised, standing up straight from where he had been leaning against the tree.

"Of course?" You were genuinely surprised at his reaction, "why wouldn't I?"

"I was a bit worried you only came last time for the herbs…" He wouldn't look straight at you, and you noticed he had something in his hand. It was obviously plants.

"Is that why you brought that?" You pointed to them, and he brought them around from behind his back.

"Y-yeah."

"Hongjoong. You're the first guy that still gave me the time of day after saying I didn't want to have twelve children." You motioned behind you toward your village, "honestly I've been really impatient, waiting for…now." Your face warmed and you swiped your leg back and forth, drawing an arch in the dirt with your toe.

"You're the first girl who didn't look at me weird when I said I only wanted one wife…" He huffed, the confident smirk coming back to his face.

"Is it weird, that we're so different?" You voiced the obvious concern between both of you.

"Maybe. But it doesn't feel like it."

For nearly two months you met at the tree, every two days. One night, under a full moon, when you arrived at the tree, he met you right as you arrived, immediately sweeping you into his arms. A bit shocked, you returned the hug, warmth flooding your whole body. You spoke like normal, sitting together, shoulder to shoulder. That time though, there was something in the air. You couldn't place your finger on it, and when you went to leave for the night, he hugged you once more. When he pulled back, his hand went to cup your cheek.

"I…I don't want to let you go." He barely pulled away from the hug but did release you. His head was bowed to be closer to yours, forehead brushing yours.

"Hongjoong?" You weren't for sure what he meant, considering he literally let you go.

"Run away with me. Come to me. Stay with me." He tilted his head, nose brushing yours, his breath mingled with yours. Tears pricked your eyes, a rush of emotions knocking your breath away as he stole it. His lips were hot on yours and a tear escaped your eye. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, and he grimaced at your tears.

"Tomorrow. I'll come to you. Here?" You asked, ready and willing. You did want to at least say goodbye to your family, gather your things.

"No. There's a cave near where we first met-"

"Behind the vines?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there."

Your mother didn’t ask too many questions. She knew there had been something on your mind, and she knew and saw that you weren't happy there. You never would be, especially not after meeting Hongjoong. You didn't have the heart to tell your father, so you said goodbye to him like it was any other time you went to gather herbs. It wasn't like you would never see them again, but you weren't sure when you would go back, not sure where you would end up. With one last glance behind you, you left your village, your bag more full than usual, but no one noticed. Standing at the entrance of the cave, you swallowed hard, parting the hanging vines and stepping in. He was there. Of course he was, it seemed he had been staying there. A very convenient hole lay in the ceiling, casting the sunlight in. The whole cave smelled of him, and once he saw you, he moved forward. You gasped, his hands cupping your jaw, lips sealing over yours. That kiss wasn’t anything like the time before. Hongjoong pulled back slightly, just so you could breathe and you whimpered at the loss. Your tail rapidly flitted back and forth behind you, ears twitching just as fast. Hongjoong's spiced aroma had grown stronger, a slight rumbling building in his chest. His hands were still holding your jaw, the claw on his thumb just barely ghosting over your skin. Stepping even closer, your hands fell on his chest, and you marveled at the hard muscle underneath the pelt around his shoulders. The rumble grew stronger under your touch, and you could already feel your core clench around nothing. Swallowing hard, you breathed in his scent, over and over, like it was a drug.

"Fuck, (Y/N)."  He practically growled, one hand moving to rest on your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck; nose pressed to your jugular. Your blood spiked and you felt your whole body shudder. You were unsure if it was arousal, or a sense of danger, having the large fangs of a predator near your weakest spot.

"You smell so good." Hongjoong groaned, hauling you closer, leaving barely a space between you.

"Like what?" You wanted to add, 'like a meal or a mate?', but didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Like when the apricots blossom." His other hand on your jaw moved instead to the back of your head, the one on your waist to the small of your back. You gasped at the pressure of his body, feeling him growing hard against your stomach. His face left your neck, and he kissed you again. You wondered if that was what the elders implied, being eaten alive. His tongue had easily entered your mouth, swiping over yours, his large canines clacking against your much blunter ones. You had expected his tongue to be rough, but he didn't know yours would be as well, though not nearly as coarse as your full animal kin. It seemed though, that he was literally drooling, the extra saliva made his tongue glide around yours. You whimpered again, the muffled noise was nearly a bleat, and the rumble of his chest nearly a roar. Hongjoong's lips left yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouths, another trail leaving the corner of his mouth. He licked away the extra, breaking the trail, his pupils had narrowed to narrow slits. Your own pupils were blown wide, the black nearly eclipsing the color of your iris. Part of you felt the need to run, flee, that you were being hunted. Somehow though, that thought turned you on all the more.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"Huh?"

"Once I have you, I won't let you go." His voice rumbled through you, straight to your cunt, and your scent of arousal built to the point you could smell it yourself. The spiced bark of his own aroma filled your nostrils, making your thoughts hazy.

"You already have me." You replied, voice very soft, to keep it from shaking. Your brain didn't register his next move till it was already done, your back pinned to the rock of the cave, his hand still on the back of your head to make sure it didn't smash against the stone.

"Tell if it hurts too bad." His voice was in your ear, nose pushing against the collar of your tunic. Your hands around his neck moved to his upper back, gripping hard into the pelt as his teeth sank into your shoulder. Your eyes rolled back, the stinging pain just aroused you further, and his hips rutted forward once, pressing his even harder cock against your tummy. As his fangs left your skin, he licked over the spot and you flinched at the sting. Just then, his scent spiked, the aroma becoming sweeter, mingling with yours. You knew predators bonded through mating bites, but you had no idea what it would do to your body. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, blood rushed in your ears and a drop of slick started to flow down your inner thigh.

"Gotta warn you, sweetheart." He huffed, a cocky smirk gracing his features, tongue licking over the drop of blood still on his lip. He palmed his hard-on through his tunic pants, "might look a little different than you're expecting."

"Huh?" You weren't fully registering what he was getting at. Hongjoong's fingers wrapped around yours, bringing your hand to his covered cock, letting you palm over him yourself. You whimpered, you had dealt with plenty of naked males being a healer, and none compared. The thing that you noticed really, what he was talking about, were the little spines at the base of his cock and below the head. Your eyes widened, normally that would concern you some, but your body was ready and waiting. Eager even, begging.

"They don't hurt like a full lion, but I wanted you to know."

"I don't care, I just want you to split me open on it." Your bold declaration made him chuckle, his tongue licking against the tip of your ear. It flicked under the touch and the hand at your head brought your lips back to his. He swallowed your mewls, the hand he had on your back moved lower, gripping the base of your tail. When he tugged, a bleat escaped your throat, and his hard thigh nestled between your quivering ones. He immediately felt the heat of your cunt through the thin leather of his tunic pants, your slick quickly dripping over the material.

"You're soaked, love." He pressed harder, your hips jumping, the slight friction intensified by whatever hex he seemed to have you under.

"Sorry, sweet. You're sending me into a rut." His chest was rumbling again, deeper than before, "It'll be hard to hold back." Is that what was happening to you? Was he putting you into heat? Yours were normally extremely weak since you were unmated, and was it much worse because he was a predator? Did your body need to compensate for his own body’s greater power? The hand on your tail moved to cup your butt, then to your thigh, prompting you to pronk up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the bulge of his cock pressing over your bare cunt and you whined, breath hitching. You felt so small then, he easily held you up against the cave wall, broad enough that most wouldn’t even know you were there but your legs around his middle. Hongjoong kissed over your neck, down to your collar bone, rough tongue searing over your skin. Your hands scrambled, gripping and pulling at the pelt around his neck, trying to get it off. He helped you, reaching under to undo a small button and you pulled it up over his head, letting it flop to the ground. His toned arms were fully on display then, the red cloth around his arm somehow made the sight all the better. He never told you what it meant, and you just assumed it was an accessory. Before you could start trying to wrestle his tunic top off, he held you to him, carrying you to a pile of pelts it seemed he used as a bed. Softly, he laid you down on it, but his following movements were anything but. He ripped his shirt off and you didn't get time to ogle his bare torso because he proceeded to literally tear yours off. You had only been in a linen tunic dress, but still the ease with which he turned it to shreds was incredible arousing. His palms were rough against your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Hongjoo-!" Your breath was kicked from your lungs, vision spattering with dots of light when his tongue buried into your cunt. You hadn't even realized he was down there, hands pressing to your thighs to hold your legs open. Even the slight brush of his lips over your clit as his tongue licked over your walls was intense. A strong wave of pleasure was quickly cresting, your womb pulsing hard, walls clenching.

"Fuck~!" Little bleats and whimpers left you, your tail whacking against the pelts beneath you, dull nails raking through his hair. While you had never had an orgasm, you knew that's what it was. With how quick he brought you up to and over the edge, you knew you were in for a long night. Hongjoong growled, his purr rumbling through his tongue into you, drinking your essence as it squirted from your cunt. Smirking, he pulled back, thumb gathering a drop from his chin so he could lick it off.

"You think your cute little cunt can take my cock?" His knuckles brushed through your folds, careful of his claws.

"Please, need it~" Your foot came up, pressing over his hard-on. He grunted, wrapping his hand around your ankle, forcing it off so he could take his pants off. You watched, hazy eyes trying to focus as the leather hit the cave floor. Your eyes subsequently widened, brain fogging further. Little spines circled his cock, thick and long. Hongjoong kneeled between your legs, spreading them and hooking one of your knees over his elbow to keep you open for him. He chuckled at the twitch your whole body seized from when the hot head met your dripping folds.

"It might sting, love." He warned once more, the thumb of his hand on your waist rubbing small circles over your hip. You nodded, trying to relax but also steel yourself. Yes, it stung, it burned, but it was amazing. Each little bit he sank his fat cock into you, the little spines rubbed and pulled at your walls. Your slick allowed an easy glide, but his own head was swimming from the tight vice of your cunt, eagerly sucking him in. You shuddered with each breath, heat searing through you from your core out, and he was barely half-way in when you felt another orgasm cresting. You thought the pain would diminish the pleasure, but it was the opposite, the burn heated you even further. Hongjoong laid kisses over your shoulder around his mark, letting you adjust to the stretch, even if it was nearly painful for him to go so slow. As the head of his dick pressed against your eager and weeping womb, the little spines at the base brushed your clit and folds, and the final little push finished you off. You threw your head back, eyelids fluttering, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders. He groaned as your tight cunt pulsed around him, more of your slick spurting out from where he was filling you. When the waves of your orgasm faded, you still were shuddering, tipsy on the pleasure.

"Ready, love?"

"Hongjoong~" You mewled, fingers rubbing over his hot skin, blunt nails scratching a path down from where you had them. Your other leg ended up hooked over his elbow as well, and when he pulled out, only about halfway, the little barbs tugged at your gummy walls. He snapped his hips then, burying back inside, battering the fat head against your cervix. He was right, he couldn't hold back. He wanted to start slow, let you get used to it, but he couldn't. The next thrust had no warning, his pace was immediately relentless, your knees pressed up toward your ears. He was fucking you stupid, the noises you let out sounding more and more like your animal kin, bleats and moans melding. Your body had gone limp, only your arms had any strength, hands digging into the pelt under your hips. Your head lolled and your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn't think to let him know as he barreled through your third orgasm, more slick gushing from your cunt. His noises were animalistic at that point, anyone passing would think a real lion was rutting in that cave. His tongue ran over his long fangs, saliva spilling from his lips as he growled and grunted.

"Aw, fuck, (Y/N)." He chuckled, burying his cock as deep as he could, pressing those little spines into your groin, pumping your eager womb full. You weren't even sure you could actually get pregnant, but he was bound and determined to fill you to the point that it would leak out of you for days. The heat of his cum inside brought you over the edge too, a much smaller climax racking you. He was still hard as a rock though. You gasped, your lungs spasming as he pulled his cock all the way out, those little barbs digging in. Your world spun, your chest and stomach to the pelts below then, and he yanked your hips up, sinking his cock back in once more. At that angle he got even deeper somehow, each rough plow of his dick battering your back walls. Your vision blurred further, eyes rolling back, fingers futilely digging into the fur below you. His hips pummeled against the skin of your ass hard, the smacking combined with his beastly grunts made your ears twitch. His hand went back to your tail, wrapping around the base, tugging a bit. Shivering shot straight up your spine from where he had you, cunt weeping along with you, tears and drool leaving a puddle on the pelts under you.

"Fucking hell, love. You're so good for me~" He groaned, chuckling as your walls fluttered through another climax. Your cunt and clit stung from the overstimulation, but you needed more, you needed him to pump you full more. The bite on your shoulder flared with heat, so did your skin as his hands wrapped around the small of your waist. His thrusts once again grew unsteady, instead they were hard and shallow, pulling back just enough to rake those little barbs over your clit over and over.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You rambled, vision already spotting with white, then nearly screamed when he came again, spurts of white hot jizz leaking from your hole, not able to handle the amount. Your cunt sprayed out as well, the mix of your release leaving a mess on the pelts. You gasped for air, heart thudding, sweat dripping from your forehead. He was still hard. Maybe that's why your people were warned about mixing with predators. His stamina was a beast in itself.

"Can you keep going love? Lions go for a whole day sometimes." Hongjoong groaned when your cunt clenched again, really hoping you could keep going. His body needed yours, just as bad for both of you, and he wanted to fuck you the rest of the week if he could. He might be able to, you on the other hand…

"Fuck me stupid, I don't- just your cock~!" You whined and moaned, giggling like an idiot as his hips rolled again. Picking back up to his monster pace again. Every drag of his dick seemed to eek a tiny little orgasm out of you, your body strung so tight, it sang with every one of his movements. Your brain vaguely registered as the sunlight faded from the hole in the ceiling, fading to the cool moonlight. You didn't think you could walk for a week after, he had fucked so many orgasms out of and into you, you lost count. Globs of thick seed slipped out of your cunt when he finally pulled out, cock finally softening. Your face was blank, eyes open but barely conscious.

"Sleep, my love. I'll need you again in the morning."

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[vinomino]

Come Central Course .ᐟ

Featuring: Umemiya.H, Endo.Y, Togame.J, Takiishi.C x f!reader (separate)

Contents: NSFW MDNI, explicit smut, pwp, established relationships, pet names, marathon sex, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, pullout method, breeding kink, implication of pregnancy, breathplay, overstimulation, mean!endo, cunnilingus, edging(togame), hair pulling, oralm!receiving, cum eating, cumplay

You want to find out where he strikes his ace; hole-in-one? Alright, you’re his playing field tonight!

.ᐟ Umemiya.H -> His goal is the cervix?!

“You wanna be a mommy right?” Umemiya lowly whispers into your ear. 

You weakly nod, “Mhm–mhm!” 

He leans back a bit and slams you down on his cock harder, making you throw your head back and moan. Your cunt was stretched wide to fit him already. The position had you relinquishing all control; legs thrown over his big thighs, breasts pressed up against his pecs, and his hands were splayed over your ass. His broad shoulders have crescent indents from your nails. Umemiya was moving you to his own will. 

“Hajime, m’gonna cum again…” You stifle out while shoving your face into the crook of his neck. 

“Cum as much as you want, sweetheart.” He presses chaste kisses to your shoulder. “Then I’ll fill my wife’s pussy up. You want that, don’t you?” 

Though, you can’t answer, not with the way the fat tip of his dick is continuously hitting your sweet spot. But Umemiya wasn’t expecting an answer anyways, all you can do is mewl and whine that you’re going to cum again. “H-Haj–ah–ime!” You snap your head back and cry against his ear, your thighs quiver as you orgasm again. 

“Really cute…my wife’s so cute.” He smiles, but you can’t see. Your juices start to trickle down his thighs, making the wet sloppy sounds of your pussy even more obscene as your husband persists fucking you. You feel his cock throb inside your walls, “H-Haji–” 

“I know.” Umemiya cuts you off with a strained voice. 

Succumbing, you hold onto him for dear life until he finishes. Umemiya plants his feet on the ground to thrust into you faster, his cock pistoning in and out of your overstimulated cunt, making your tits jiggle against his chest, and you can feel his blunt nails dig into the skin of your ass. Your cheek rests on his collarbone as drool rolls out the corner of your mouth. He feels his mind spin as you continue to whine out his name so sweetly, begging him– your husband to cum and who is he to deny his dear wife’s request.

“Honey, you ready?” He rasps directly into your eardrum before spilling his hot cum into you– filling you up. Umemiya hugs you tightly when he does while sugary praises spew out his mouth. You twitch in his arms as he continues to pump his sperm out up against your cervix, the heat makes your brain melt. He doesn’t let you go even after his dick goes flaccid and soft. 

“We gotta make sure it takes, sweetheart.” 

He’s already dreaming of how round you’ll get, how many kids you two will have, and what their names will be. He basks in the afterglow of his daydreams. It’s the perfect calm for Umemiya and if this one doesn’t take, there’s always a tomorrow. 

.ᐟ Endo.Y -> His goal is right outside?!

Your brain is going all jittery with Endo’s tatted-up hands pushing the back of your knees right up to your head. He’s bending you in half with ease– conforming your body to his liking. His cock is sliding and out of your pussy and there’s a white cream forming a ring around the base of his dick, sliding down to your ass from how much there was. 

“Y-Yama–to!” You weep and claw at the bedsheets to the point you should worry if they would rip, but you can’t.

Endo lets out a breathy chuckle, “Yeah? What is it, angel?” 

His eyes crinkle at the sight of your mouth dropped open– eyes telling him the truth that you’re completely fucked out of your mind. “Yama–Yama–ngh!” You mewl when he snaps his hips deeper and harder. “Aww, no need to talk, lemme take care of you.” Your eyes widen when he clasps a palm over your mouth, muffling your sounds against his hand. Instantly, you wrap both hands around his wrist, the blockage forces you to think– to remember to breathe through your nose. The act grounds you for a second before your eyes roll back into your skull when you feel that familiar tingly sensation build up again. 

Endo wishes he could take a picture of you right now; the whites of your eyes, the way you’re struggling to breathe, and the weak grip you have on his wrist. “You gonna cum, pretty?” He lowers himself to be closer to your face, folding you even more in the process. Through your bleary vision, you can see his eyes– a dominating blue. It sends you over the edge, making you gush on his cock again as you moan out his name.

You squeeze around him and he starts to feel it. Endo tightens his grip on your face and chases his release. He deeply groans and clenches his jaw, focusing on building himself up to his peak. “Best fuckin’ pussy, fuck you’re gonna make me cum.” He grunts and twists his brows. The sounds of your wet walls squelching around him were making both of you lose it. 

In a split second, Endo pulls out and starts pumping his length with the tip right over your stretched hole. Stretched from him. He curses when white starts shooting out the tip and it lands on your swollen clit before rolling down, mingling with your cream. You quickly pant, not aware of anything until you feel your thighs being pried apart again. 

“Yamato..?” Peering down, you see him lower his face to your pussy. “N-No, no more– more, can’t.” Whining and pleading to deaf ears. 

“Shh, lemme take care of you.” He coos, but he’s lying while he only focuses on satiating his desires.

.ᐟ Togame.J -> His goal is on the ass?!

Togame always liked wasting time and always went real slow as if he had all the time in the world.

His hands seizes your waist from behind to still himself. You can hear him let out a lengthy groan. He’d been edging himself all night– whenever he almost reaches his peak, he stops until it ebbs away. Pushing your head out of the pillow and to the side, you look behind, “J-Jo, m’ tired…” Of course, you’d be tired when he’s been doing this for hours. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while, baby. Wanna spend more time with you.” 

“Jo, i-it’s late…and I want you to cum too…” Maybe you should’ve kept your mouth closed. 

The lack of release didn’t apply to you though, you came so many times you lost count. Your slick was dribbling down to your navel from how arched you were, it was even dripping off his balls and splattering on the white sheets. Without notice, Togame pulls himself out until only the tip of his heavy cock is caught on your hole and he shoves himself back in one go. Your cunt readily readjusts around him from the hours he spent shaping his cock into your walls.

“Jo!” You gasp and grab the pillow again.

Togame pushes your waist down so it touches the mattress and he begins to use his weight to pound into your pussy. “Hm? You want me to cum, darlin’? Fine, I’ll fuckin’ cum.” He practically growls. The squelching of your sopping cunt rings out through the room, your juices splurt out with every thrust he does. The bedframe sings wildly as the headboard starts to hit the wall every time he bottoms out.

“Oh, shit–” You shove your face into the pillow and it soaks up your tears. But you yelp when Togame grips your hair and pulls your head up, causing your moans to spill out. “Lemme hear it.” He brutally demands. “Reward me for cumming, yeah? That's it…” Togame lazily drawls out the last syllable. You cry out his name over and over again as your ass jiggles from how harsh his pace was. It has your knuckles turning white from how hard you’re gripping the stained pillow. 

Your stuttering hips drop limply to the mattress as you heave. “F-Fuck…mnh…” Togame whines as he furiously fists his aching cock, finally allowing himself to that euphoric release. Pretty white ribbons form on the curve of your ass. Togame places a hand on the bed to steady himself as he gasps to catch his breath from how hard he came. His shoulders shake and his chest rapidly expands and compresses. When you turn your head, he notices your eyes searching for him. Through the moonlight drifting in, you can see him grinning at you. 

.ᐟ Takiishi.C -> His goal is in the mouth?!

Your nose presses directly into the hairs at his base and now you’re able to smell the lingering scent of his musky body wash that’s still sticking to his skin. His plump cock is nestled in the warmth of your mouth, weighing your tongue down. Humming around him, you peer up at Takiishi through your lashes, and you can see his red fringe starting to stick to his forehead. His coat was long discarded, thrown without a thought somewhere in the room, and his bare arms allow you to see the muscles of his biceps twitching. 

“Shit…” Takiishi curses, he squints his eyes making his ambers glint when he meets your direct gaze. He clicks his tongue and swiftly grabs your head with both hands. You fight back a gag when he starts thrusting— fucking your mouth wide.

“Mmngh!” You whimper and tightly hold the front of his black trousers. 

“Damn, annoying…” he grits his teeth, “...just take it.” His balls start to hit your chin, slapping your saliva back onto you. 

Tears start clouding your vision as his cock hits the back of your throat. Takiishi wasn’t always like this, as time went on he became more and more bolder and direct with what he wanted with you. Truth is; Takiishi never cared about relationships and intimacy until he felt your lips around him for the first time. It was mind-blowing to him how much pleasure the human body could produce– a wired instinct he hadn’t tapped into until now. 

“Gnh!” You gag, spit gushing all over your face, landing in globs on the carpet. 

He scoffs, “You’re so messy.” Even as he tries to steady his voice, it’s still shaky. Takiishi tilts his head back, a low whiny moan escapes past his lips as much as he doesn’t want it to. His hips jerk and he slumps back into the couch, releasing your head. You’re finally able to pull his cock out of your mouth, the bright red tip appearing in front of you again. Swallowing to clear your voice, “Chika, are you gonna cum?” You giggle as he furrows his brows. 

All he gives is a grunt in response, so you wrap your hands around his drenched throbbing cock, and stroke him til he finishes. His hands claw into the fabric of the couch as he tucks his chin, and long red-ombre hair slips past his shoulders. You scan his face and his eyes start to water, telling you he’s about to cum. Sticking out your tongue when you smile, you aim his tip into the back of your throat. A few more pumps and a white creamy substance paints your entire mouth; roof to gums. You lick it all down, but a bitter taste causes you to scrunch your face up. Takiishi’s diet wasn’t the best after all. 

[upsidedownpaycheck]

Someone requested me to write a story (feel free to add your own): So here it goes...

She's tied up and nervous, you were instructed to rip out her beating heart from her central chest and show it strongly pulsate in front of her own eyes, whilst blood through her vessels pumps outwards into your and her mouth. Both of you maintain eye contact for a while before she loses her vision on her last breath staring at you. Her body twitches from shock and blood pours out from her mouth. The Simulation headset is taken off, and you wake up laying with your head on her chest where you hear the lively sound of her heartbeats.

She asked you what you did and you then show her the footage.

She smiles at you, says that she had the same experience in her simulation, fetches the stethoscope, needles and chains, switches the lights off and leaves the dim lights on, locks the basement with you inside. You feel that her heart is hammering inside of her body as she breathes rapidly while trying to hide her small breath intervals, directly by the underside of the palm of your hand, you also notice how visible her neck pulse is. She gets ready to receive cpr.

[kingkatsuki]

— babysitting

Just a silly little piece about Bakugou looking after his nephew when Kirishima and his wife are both working, and him being the cutest little wingman.

Warnings: fluff!, implied!older Bakugou, Bakugou’s behaviour could be construed as stalking but it’s not really, he just proper fancies you.

Pairing: implied!Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 2.1k.

“Please, Kats. I promise it won’t be for long, we didn’t realise we were both working this afternoon and I can’t take him on patrol with me—” Kirishima pleaded on the phone.

“I’m busy,” Bakugou replied bluntly.

“Busy doing what?” His best friend almost whined, and Bakugou could tell the hulking tank of a man was pouting on the other side of the line.

“None of your damn business.”

Bakugou didn’t want to admit the real reason he was busy today. It was the same reason he was now busy every day he was off.

A few weeks ago he’d made his way into Musutafu mall on his lunch break to pick up a copy of a new romance book his favourite author had just released. And while he was checking out he noticed you filling up one of the displays near the back of the store, giving him the cutest smile when he’d passed you to leave.

Since that day he’d come back every week on one of his days off, just to get a simple “hey” from you as he bought yet another book. Bakugou was certain he’d soon have so many unread books in his house that he’d have to build an extension to store them, but he couldn’t help it.

And today was going to be the day that he was actually going to talk to you— possibly.

“Can’t you reschedule? It’ll only be for a few hours until I can get off patrol and he can spend the afternoon at the agency with me.”

“What about Mina?” Bakugou offered.

“She’s got that photoshoot with Hero Weekly today, remember?” Of course she fucking does, “And Sero’s out on patrol with me.”

“Denks?” Bakugou was certain he already knew the answer to that one though, as he ran a palm down the length of his face.

“You know I’m not allowed to leave him unsupervised with Denki anymore, Bro.” Kirishima groaned, “The wife still hasn’t forgiven me for them almost setting the kitchen on fire.”

Bakugou couldn’t help but snigger at the memory, the panicked phone call that he’d heard coming through on the central emergency line that there was a fire in Red Riot’s neighbourhood, and when Backdraft had turned up at the scene he’d found a singed Denki standing inside a murky kitchen with some burnt cookies. Kirishima had to replace two cabinet units and the oven after that debacle and it was no wonder his wife no longer trusted Denki as a babysitter.

“Please, man. I already told him, and he’s real excited to spend the day with you.”

Bakugou couldn’t deny he missed spending time with his little nephew, and Kirishima knew his best friend couldn’t deny the pleas of his son. Silently fist pumping the air in relief when Bakugou finally responded on the other end of the phone.

“Fine, I’ll pick him up now.”

“Uncle Kats, let’s get these!” His nephew picked up a water gun from a wire dumpbin of toys outside the toy store, turning around in a crouched motion with eyes squinted as he pretended to shoot Bakugou.

He put his hands up in mock surrender as he grabbed at the plastic barrel, holding it in the air as he took it out of his nephews hands to place it back inside the bin.

“Your parents don’t like you having guns, remember squirt.”

“But what if I need one for protection.”

“You don’t need that shit for protection,” He shook his head, “I’ll be there to protect ya.”

“But wouldn’t it be cool to have a water gun fight outside. It’s summer.” His young nephew whined as Bakugou began to lead him away from the toy store, noticing that your work was approaching on the right side of the mall.

“I’ll talk to them about it.” Bakugou reached down to ruffle his hair as his nephew shouldered his leg wrapping an arm around one thick thigh to squeeze him into a hug in thanks, “How about a book? You like reading, don’tcha?”

“Not really,” He shook his head, immediately making a beeline for the confectionery inside the shop.

“What? Why not.” Bakugou raised a brow before he began to search the store for you, hoping that you weren’t on your lunch break.

You were usually in one of the back aisles around this time of day, tidying the shelves as he pretended to flick through the various hero books that you sold. Like he’d ever actually buy one of them— perhaps the book Miruko had released on unabashedly being yourself despite the critics, or the memoir Edgeshot had put together before he passed away, but never the unofficial Deku books that seemed to line the shelves of your Pro-Hero section and were always on sale. Bakugou snorted when he noticed a large bright red “half off” sticker covering Deku’s face on one.

“It’s too many pages.” His nephew scoffed, picking up a chocolate bar as Bakugou placed a palm on the back of his neck to lead him away from the sweets.

“You just gotta find a book that doesn’t feel like too many pages, that’s all.” He began to walk towards the manga aisle, wondering if there might be something there that would interest the young boy.

“You like reading, uncle Kats?”

“Course I do,” Bakugou scoffed, “Way better than TV. That shit’ll rot your brain.”

He had an entire bookshelf of his favourites lined up at home. All in alphabetical order by author and spines outward facing, a few of his favourite covers turned forward to show off the artwork. Some spines were more worn than others, an indication of the sheer number of times he’d sought comfort in those stories after a long day at work, or a lonely night at home.

“What kinda books do you like?”

Bakugou chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. It would be so easy to lie and say action or fantasy, certain that half the people who claimed their favourite book was Lord of the Rings or a Game of Thrones had never actually read them. Or the pretentious people who would pretend their favourites were non-fiction books about bettering yourself or hyper-specific topics that would never come up in normal conversation. But there was a part of him that didn’t want to lie to his nephew— the boy was always so open and honest with him, even at his young age.

“Romance.” Bakugou shrugged, leaning forward to pick up one of the new manga books that sat on a top shelf.

“Eww yuck,” Bakugou’s nephew immediately scrunched up his face, making a show of sticking his tongue out in distaste, “I didn’t think you’d like books like that.”

“What did ya think I’d like?”

“I dunno, like action or kicking villain ass.”

“Don’t say ass.” Bakugou frowned, his eyebrows narrowing as he glared down at the young boy.

“But you say it all the time, I hear you.”

“Yeah, because I’m an adult.” Bakugou grinned, “I see enough of that crap when I’m at work, don’t need to read about it too.”

“You say ‘shit’ a lot too.”

“Oi, you little—” Bakugou lost his train of thought the moment he saw you past a corner, words disappearing into nothing as he noticed the same focused look on your face as you sorted through a delivery of new books.

Bakugou was certain you were wearing a new pair of jeans today, or at least a pair he’d never seen before. You looked real good in them. He felt his heartbeat increase when you placed a book back on the shelf, stopping to talk to one of your colleagues as your lips curled in to the prettiest smile, and he couldn’t stop himself as he felt himself beginning to mimic your smiling face.

“Oh,” The kid nudged his thigh, shamelessly standing around the shelves to stare at you, “Is that the real reason why you brought me into a bookstore? Not because you want me to read.”

“What?” Bakugou wasn’t even sure he heard the question as he kept his gaze on you. Feeling his cheeks begin to heat up as you bent over to pick up more books, the angle had your jeans tightening against the curve of your ass and he felt like a pervert for ogling you so shamelessly.

“The lady you’re staring at.” His nephew snorted, pointing over at you “You’re so obvious.”

“Piss— shut up,” Bakugou caught himself, grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt to tug him back behind the shelves, “I ain’t starin’.”

“Yeah you are!” His nephew sniggered, “You’re giving her the same look my dad gives ma.”

“No I ain’t.” Bakugou almost pouted, crimson eyes still peeking at you through the shelves in the aisle he was down as you continued to place more books onto the table in your section.

“You so are,” His tone increased, and Bakugou had to stop himself from slapping a palm over his big mouth to shut him up, “You’re so obvious. Look how red you are!”

Was he that obvious? Bakugou had done everything he could to be subtle each week when he visited your bookstore, trying to stick to the same shelves and strategically picking up books so he didn’t seem like was just staring at you all the time. Not that it was his fault anyway, you were so fucking pretty.

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?”

“She’s workin’.” Bakugou replied as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. He’d probably said a total of five words to you since he’d started coming into your book store a few weeks ago, and the thought of saying any more had a ferocious pit growing inside his stomach.

“So? If you like her you should tell her,” His nephew tried to nudge him towards you, “That’s why my dad asked my ma out.”

“That’s different,” Bakugou grumbled, “This is…”

Kirishima knew his wife liked him back, they’d been friends long before they started dating so they had a foundation to build upon. This? This was completely new to him, and the thought of being rejected, especially by a girl as pretty as you, petrified him.

“Wait, you read all those romance books and you don’t know how to ask a girl out?”

“I do know,” Bakugou sneered, “I ain’t a total dumbass.”

“So why don’t you?”

Because he was a coward, that’s why.

Not that he’d even be able to talk to you long enough to do it if he could. His throat seized up and his heart practically ricocheted off his rib cage whenever you were near, your perfume lingering in the air as it had him wishing he could bring you into a warm embrace. He’d ask you out one day, just not today—

“Because I told ya, she’s workin’.” Bakugou began to steer his nephew away from the manga section, trying to get him to leave the store.

It had been a bad idea to still come to your store on his day off even though he was babysitting, but he couldn’t help it. The routine he’d settled into on his days off no longer felt complete if they didn’t include you, the small time he’d spend in the bookstore each week were enough to become the highlight of his day. And he would ask you out— just not today.

“Don’t tell your parents about this,” Bakugou grumbled, “Your dads too frigging nosy.”

“Alright,” His nephew practically sung the word, and Bakugou knew exactly what was coming, “But it’ll cost you.”

“I’m sure it’s a crime to blackmail a Pro-Hero, squirt.”

“So I’ll just tell the pretty lady you fancy her then.”

“Fine, fine,” Bakugou snarled, the corner of his lip curling to bare his gum, “Whaddya want?”

“That water gun we saw at the toy store.”

God, Kirishima was gonna kill him.

“Fine.” Bakugou groaned, walking towards the cash register to pay for the candy that he’d picked up.

“But you have to get one too so we can play together, alright?”

Two guns. Kirishima’s wife would definitely kill him before he even attempted to sweet talk his best friend.

“I was going to say the loser has to tell that girl from the bookstore that you like her, but you’ll probably lose because you’re old.”

“Oi, you cheeky little shit,” He ruffled his nephew's messy black hair, “Watch who you’re callin’ old, squirt. I’ll kick your ass and ask her out.”

[cravetive]

𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 𝕆𝔽 𝔸 𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 | ℂℍ. 𝟡

| 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞/𝐚𝐮: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬,𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭,𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, 𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭.

| 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

| 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k

| 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬), 𝐬𝐞𝐱 ( 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬), 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬 & 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

| 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧...𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬

previous chapters

-

There are 3 stages in how the body responds to stress: the first of them being the alarmed stage. the central nervous system is awakened, causing adrenaline to pump into the veins, forcing the body to secrete cortisol but some just like to call this fight or flight. Jungkook can feel the rush as he steps down the corridor, his fingers trembling against the Glock gripped inside his hand, his mouth and nose dripping crimson while his mind resides on the image of you, his legs dragging against the carpet underneath him.

 the air turns dense around him and no matter how much he tries to breathe, there just isn’t  sufficient oxygen that can ease the pressure forming between his ribs. his fingers crawl to his neck to loosen the tie that remains pressed against his carotid artery but there isn’t a button he can pop, not a lace he can undue that can erase the image of you pointing a semi-automatic pistol to his head. 

The red tie grips his throat, forming into a noose that asphyxiates him.

He couldn’t sense a gleamer of hesitation in your eyes, not a tremble in your voice as you stood in front of him, finger on the trigger ready to blow his brains out. the memory causes his skin to crawl, a nauseating feeling brewing in his abdomen as he struggles to catch his next breath.

Jungkook recognizes the uneasiness that has taken over his blood stream, the strain it causes on his brain. It had only ever happened once before, after his first murder. The memory arrives unwarranted and as his limbs grow limp with each step he takes, he now imagines himself on the floor, eyes staring empty into nothingness just like the first man he ever killed.

He is rotting inside, his darkest insecurities eating away at his decaying mind, and you hadn’t even pulled the trigger.

Jungkook throws himself against the wall, huffing as he wipes away at the beads of sweat that have formed on his forehead. He’s terrified, his skin running cold but his head burning hot as he tries to collect himself. His eyes sting from the lights above his head and no matter how much he tries to focus, everything around him becomes blurred. He has faced many enemies before, cruel and malicious. The kind of enemies that horror films are written of, blood thirsty and repugnant but they had never mustered to instill fear in him the way you have today.

Perhaps it’s because he has nothing, he can offer you in exchange for his life. after all its his life that you want to take.

You had been a ticking bomb, a disaster waiting to happen and there was nothing he had done to save himself all while he witnessed your hunger from far away, too consumed in his own ego to believe that you would be capable of doing any of this, too reassured in your weakness, quick to disregard your indignation. When he looked into your eyes now, he found emptiness, rid of all hope and desires, things that he himself had ripped away from you and he crumbles under the culpability. All the things he had tried to prevent becoming all the things he has caused.

Jungkook winces as his tongue trails over the swollen corner of his lip, blood pooling inside of his mouth with the bitter reminder of what has transpired and the worst part of all is that he can’t even blame you, couldn’t point a finger at the person whose caused him harm. not when he knows all of this is your retribution, not when he knows that he would’ve done the same. He has been defeated, humiliated and the only person he can point his gun at this time is himself.

panic pumps into him relentlessly and he can only open his mouth to scream, his voice ragged as he yells into the empty corridor, pouring his frustration into the 2 walls that reflect his screams back to him and yet it doesn’t suffice, it doesn’t remedy the pressure building inside of him. his mind can’t comprehend that he needs to surrender and instead he lets vexation takes its place. The feeling is unnerving, and it leaves him spent, the walls caving in on him as he stands there in desperation.

“Jungkook!” a voice calls inside of his mind, faint and distant and he shuts his eyes tightly, trying to bring himself out of the conflict raging in his mind and then he hears the voice once again, much closer this time, startling him out of his frenzied state. he snaps his eyes open and raises his gaze, his eyes meeting Taehyung’s as he races down the corridor. He lets out a heavy sigh, head pounding painfully whilst he wipes away at the blood that drips down his chin.

 “Where the fuck have you been? Theres reporters everywhere!” Taehyung pants, stopping a few inches away from his disheveled friend, his frantic eyes scanning Jungkook’s troubled expression.

“Where's Y/n?” Taehyung asks, peering over Jungkook’s shoulder at the open door behind him but he’s met with silence.

Taehyung drags his eyes back to Jungkook finally noticing the blood on his white shirt and his glassy eyes that glow red under the dim lights. Jungkook can’t bring himself to respond, to admit that you were gone was to admit that he had lost. his chin quivers as he brushes past Taehyung, his movements slow as he tries to find his balance. Taehyung looks down at the gun in his hand, held so tightly it turns Jungkook’s knuckles white.

“Give it to me,” Taehyung sighs, stepping in front of Jungkook and wrapping his hand over it, causing Jungkook to jolt in response.

“Taehyung” Jungkook growls a warning, his eyes glaring into Taehyung with utter rage.

“I understand Jungkook '' Taehyung responds, the gravity of the situation weighing down on him as he realizes that you are gone and what that implicates. “But there’s also 50 cameras out there waiting to snap a picture of you leaving this building, this is not the right time for any of this.” 

“Do you think I give a fuck about the tabloids right now? I COULD FUCKING CARE LESS”

Jungkook’s voice causes Taehyung to step back, his stare faltering as he lowers his head in submission. Taehyung knows Jungkook to be a patient man, the rational one of the lots but he has also borne witness to the mess he can make when he is tested, of emotions that have been contained inside unleashing in the most vile ways.

Taehyung watches as Jungkook stumbles away, his steps uncoordinated and he knows he’s not in the right mental space, it’s painful to witness and he grimaces at the sight.

“Your father is looking for you” Taehyung calls out, his last attempt of snapping Jungkook out of the state he’s currently in and Jungkook stops, his steps pausing as he slowly turns to look at Taehyung. he sighs deeply and releases the grip on the gun, his eyes fluttering closed at the reminder.

He hadn’t even thought about his father, of the way he must be coming apart at the ignominy you have put him through. Unlike Jungkook, his father is far too proud to blame himself for his faults, for the role he’s played in his own downfall and now there was no reputation that held him back, this version of his father would be someone Jungkook has never faced before.

He lays the gun in Taehyung’s hand and walks past him, taking constricted steps as he heads to see his father. His stomach turns with anticipation, he was no stranger to his father’s wrath, the manner in which he assured that everyone could feel his grievances. Too many times he had been at the receiving end of it, starved for saying the wrong things, cane slammed on his back repeatedly when he did something that his father disapproved of. He would like to say he was stronger now, but his skin still held the scars, his brain conditioned to the assaults.

“Thank you” Jungkook mutters on the phone, his expression withdrawn as he ends the call and slips the phone back into the pocket of his suit. He runs his hand through his hair, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips, indication of his drained mind.

Taehyung glances over at him and then lowers his head to the cameras that flash outside of the car windows from the reporters who have remained, seeking answers that neither Jungkook nor Taehyung have. By tonight their faces will be plastered in every media outlet, each one of them jumping to their own conclusion of what kind of people they are but Jungkook can't even begin to concern himself with that matter, his mind preoccupied with the topic of you. 

“She's not home, is she?” Taehyung asks but going off the expression Jungkook wears on his face, that of defeat and utter weariness, he concludes his answer. 

“I didn't expect her to be” Jungkook hums, eyes concentrating on the lights of the city as the car pulls away from the media frenzy outside. Jungkook can't help blaming himself for the events that have transpired because ultimately there’s no one else he can, he had his reasons even if he's never felt compelled to share them with anyone else but not even those justifications can mend what has been done.

Taehyung sighs, studying his friend who sits slumped in the car and he expects Jungkook to react. Anticipating a fit of rage. a shout, a punch, something to release the torment that he knows ripples through him, but it never comes, and that in itself scares Taehyung far more.  

“Are you going to go find her?”  he follows up and in another time the answer would be clear for Jungkook, he has never been shy regarding his need to track you down, always determined to find a way to see you. yet, he knows he's caused irreversible damage with his intentions.

this time he feels no desire to be intrusive.

In his delusion of protection, he had drifted you apart, pushing you to form into the very person he wanted to prevent you from becoming and looking into the eyes of the girl that he yearned to save from the world  all whilst shredding her to pieces never left his mind at ease, looking into the eyes of the girl he dreamed of in his darkest hours while she held him at gunpoint didn't either.

Even if you didn’t remember, the both of you had known each other for a long time now, before the wedding and theatrics, before the parties and the thrills, he could never forget the first time he laid eyes on you. you were pure, sunlight beaming amidst that immorality that entrapped him, you stood out above all the things cruel and vicious, and he had sworn you would be his in every kind of way.

It just never occurred to him that it would be like this.  

“Do you love her?” Taehyung continues and Jungkook glances down at his blood-stained shirt, traces of the sentiment you had of him. He’s not sure if that is the correct word to describe how he feels about you. all he knows is that his skin tenses when he’s around you, sometimes forgetting how to breathe when he sees you enter a room, your scent being the only thing he can remember for days after. It wasn’t in his intentions for things to get so out of hand, but when it comes to you he loses all rationale, his impulsions turning out to be his worst enemy.

He hadn't seen you in years when he heard you would be married off to the Greco family over a year ago, a vile and ruthless family. he had wanted to say it came as a surprise but your father being the notorious money hungry bastard he had come to know, would sell you off to anyone if money was on the table and Jungkook wasn’t shocked in the slightest either when word came around of the 80 billion won offered in exchange for your hand in marriage. It didn't matter if you loved that man or not, it didn't matter that you were smart and coveted, deserving of a man who could love you organically. To your father you were property, and he would sell you to the highest bidder. 

And so that's what Jungkook became. 

“I wouldn't know” Jungkook shrugs, looking away from Taehyung, an uneasy feeling settling inside of him. Jungkook rarely ever expressed himself, harboring his deepest emotions inside until they ripped at the seams, and it served no surprise that even now he couldn’t put a name to what he feels.

He just knows he needs you, in the sickest kind of way.

“I mean i wouldn't drop 98 billion won on someone i don't love but that’s me personally” Taehyung rebuts and sometimes Jungkook really hates how quick-witted Taehyung is, always speaking the truth, unable to read a room to save his life. 

“And then fuck it up by avoiding her and cheating and all the other crazy shit you were doing.” 

“I didn’t cheat” Jungkook clarifies, his jaw locking at the accusation. 

“Huh?” Taehyung asks, brows furrowed as he stares Jungkook down. 

“I know you must’ve probably hit your head pretty hard back there but I know you didn’t forget about Marisa in Ibiza, sunny in Tokyo, Nora from London” Taehyung pauses, noticing the way Jungkook squeezes his fists and avoids his eyes “I mean I can go on, the girls from the country club?.”

 Taehyung doesn’t intend to make Jungkook feel worse about the situation, he’s probably gone through enough for one night, but Taehyung is aware that for some time his friend has lost touch with reason and due to his lack of thinking he’s set in motion a domino effect in which everyone will be trampled, including himself and He fails to conceal the irritation in his voice as he questions Jungkook.

“I fabricated those rumors” Jungkook mutters carelessly, foot taping anxiously as he counts down the minutes until he meets with his father.

“You what?” Taehyung can’t process what Jungkook has said and quite frankly he even considers taking him to a hospital, he wasn’t making any sense and that only further frustrates him. nothing about this had ever made sense to Taehyung. Looking back on the events that took place a year ago he’s unable to understand the turn Jungkook’s life had taken, one day he’s Jungkook son of a criminal tycoon and then the next he’s marrying a girl he’s never even met before.

It was as if he was watching a drama and he had lost the plot.

“I made it all up alright? I paid those girls to go around and say they had sex with me, that way I could have Y/n and distance her all at the same time” Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest, fists held tight against his lap “ I married her so that she wouldn’t have to marry some sick bastard who would use her for parts and then throw her away like a piece of trash” Jungkook snaps, veins standing from his neck and his face beat red as he finally allows himself to express the insatiable bitterness inside of him.

“if I showed how much I cared, my father would only use her against me, hold it over my head, I know my father, I know the monster whose raised me.”

“You do understand how utterly insane that sounds right?” Taehyung asks, eyes widened as he tries to make sense of the entire situation.

The air falls silent and Taehyung fidgets with his fingers as his brain tumbles with questions and judgements he avoids passing out loud to avoid getting punched in the face and He wishes he had never asked anything to begin with. now he has more questions than answers, glancing over at his friend as if he was sitting next to a psychopath.  

“ I purposely ignored her, I isolated her to those who would try to harm her as a means to harm me and I’d have her followed, ensuring she was always safe” Jungkook sighs, his heart feeling like a ton of bricks, he throws his head back recognizing that he has gone about everything the wrong way and he wants nothing more to turn back time if it could save you and him for the crossroads you both stand in now.

Yet, ultimately he concludes that it was his only choice either way.

“Was it the best decision? No, I know that now” Jungkook speaks with a remorse in his tone, pinching the bridge of his nose as the cars comes to a full stop Infront of his father’s estate.

“But she tried” he breaths, glancing over at Taehyung, despair in his eyes.

“she learned what I liked, she would wait for me at home with home-cooked meals and she would try to hold me, to show me warmth and though I wanted nothing more than to give in” Jungkook pauses, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips and he can’t find the words to explain the turmoil he’s being dealing with and he regrets even having attempted to.

“I made it all up” he repeats, teeth clawing at his bottom lip.

Taehyung releases the breath that he has been holding since the beginning of the conversation and he reaches to pat his friend on the shoulder, still not able to piece the trajectory of his friend’s explanation in his head but opting not to ask any further questions. Jungkook has never been the kind of man to open up and Taehyung doesn’t know how to deal with it, he can’t construct any words that would bring his friend ease.

“I think you should’ve told her the truth” Taehyung confesses what he has been thinking all this time.  

“She wouldn’t have understood, she would’ve looked at me in the same way you do now” Jungkook points out and Taehyung looks away, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I just wanted to save her, to remove her out of the situation her family was putting her in.”

“You know I love you man but there’s no use in playing the victim, Y/n never asked you to do that and now, she hates you for it.” Taehyung states and though his words cause Jungkook dread he knows them to be true.

“i never intended to become her enemy” Jungkook whispers, reflecting over all the times he caused you pain under the guise of keeping you safe, thinking it’s what would be best for you.

“fuck, if you treated me like that you’d be my enemy too” Taehyung responds.

Jungkook braces himself, hand lingering on the doorknob for a second too long before he feels the presence of Taehyung standing next to him, hand gripping his shoulder. He looks up at the wooden door, his mind racing with thoughts that can’t save him from the confrontation he is about to face. He can hear his father’s voice flowing past the walls, a threatened man who now seeks out someone to blame. He twists the doorknob in his hands and pushes the door open, remaining at the entrance with his eyes trained on the scene in front of him.

“You!” his father snaps his head, noticing his son who now stands there, eyes widened, and hands bloodied as his beaten assistant bows before him. Jungkook can feel the hair stand on the back of his neck, can feel himself shriveling back to the 12-year-old boy who hid behind his mother’s skirt when his father would come home under the influence of angered haze, reeking of death and cheap perfume.

His father is nefarious, a man that would stop at nothing to get what he wants and what causes Jungkook fear is not that he stands before him now, it’s the fact that now what his father wants the most is you.

“you good for nothing son of a bitch!” his voice makes the body guards that surround him flinch but Jungkook stands firm, stare unwavering as he witnesses yet another one of his father’s tantrum, his are steps slow and controlled as he walks inside, completely unphased. There's not a morsel of energy left in his body to care, to react to his father’s abuse.

 Mr. Jeon has been humiliated, the mask in which he paraded himself in snatched right from his face, his worst crimes exposed for everyone to see and Jungkook struggles to fight of the urge to smile, even if his own mask has fallen too.

“Please leave us alone” Jungkook requests and he watches as his father’s assistance struggles to stand up, blood dripping from his face as he uses his hands and feet to rise from the ground. Jungkook’s eyes remain on him, a story he’s lived many times replaying in his mind as he waits for everyone to disappear through the door and then his father’s assistant bows, an apology falling from his mouth and Jungkook looks away, unable to see his own reflection any longer.

Jungkook has seen the extent of what the notion of loyalty will do to a person yet his withers with each minute he spends inside this room.

“were the fuck is she?!” his father’s voice slams into Jungkook’s stiff stance but he remains silent, head leaned to the side as he inspects the broken glass on his father’s hands, the  paintings ripped from the walls, and the books that remain scattered along the floor.

“Could you not keep Y/n tame?” Jungkook glares up at his father, his cold demeanor faltering as your name slips out of his mouth, It sounds perverse coming from him, enticing Jungkook to grow repulsed.

Jungkook doesn’t say a word while his father approaches him, fuming and foaming at the mouth. Yet, this no longer makes Jungkook flinch in the way it has in the past, he was standing his ground in a way he had never been able to before, now he had something else to protect besides himself, his father’s intimidation tactics would no longer serve their purpose.

“I knew I would regret picking you up from that bloodied floor, I should’ve let you watch your parents rot in front of you” Mr. Jeon screams with angered eyes, a clock ticking inside of Jungkook’s head the further his father continues to spew out venom, his eyes briefly fluttering shut as he lets it spread into his veins.

Then there’s that reminder, the reminder that that’s all Jungkook is to him, a deal gone wrong, both parents dead and an orphaned boy willing to find love wherever it was given but Jungkook did not know whose hand he would come to hold at the ripe of 6, didn’t know who he would have to stand next to for the rest of his life, bound to a man who murdered his parents for survival.

Mr. Jeon has turned Jungkook into his mere image, what he didn’t have in blood he had made up for it with the blood of others.

 “Look at me boy” Mr. Jeon barks, gripping Jungkook’s face with so much force, his fingers turn white. Jungkook complies, heavy eyes looking into that of the man he had considered a father, of the man who he bowed down to even when his knees resisted.

“you look at me when I speak, You owe me your life, don’t you ever forget that” Mr. Jeon seethes, his hand rising in the air before it slams right across Jungkook’s face, imprinted on his cheek the only love his father can show, the only kind of love he thought that mattered before he met you.

“I only hit you because I love you.”

“I only hit you because I want you to be better.”

“I only hit you because you don’t listen.”

Jungkook turns his face, and he wishes that he can erase the pain in his eyes, wanting to prove his father no longer has control but instead he lowers his head, and he doesn’t protest out of gratitude for his life.

“I thought you were my son, but you are just another poor and filthy rat that I thought I could give home training to, it makes me sick” Mr. Jeon’s words cut deep but Jungkook does not budge, does not scream, hides under his disguise of carelessness in order demonstrate he’s the man that Mr. Jeon has raised.

“a year ago, you come to me begging for this girl’s hand in marriage and I give in because you are my child” Mr. Jeon’s eyes are stern, glaring into his son as if ready to tear him into pieces. “I offer 98 billion won for her and then she make a joke out of it?” Mr. Jeon’s eyes twist in disgust.

“At my fucking expense!” his voice crawls through the walls, echoes pouring out of the closed door and into the corridor in which Taehyung stands, eyes firmly set on the wall in front of him, hands tightened into fists.

“Have I not repaid my debt?” Jungkook finally snaps, a fuse burning inside of him as he allows himself to speak, his voice a mere whisper “Have I not tripled that since the day of my marriage?”

Mr. jeon chuckles coldly, his eyes narrowing on the man who now stands before him, no longer a wailing child yet someone he only views as an object of his own property, his eyes reflect disdain, his mouth going sour as he steps closer to Jungkook.

“There is nothing you can give to me that can repay what I’ve done for you” Mr. Jeon snarls and Jungkook can’t repress the way his stomach lurches as a response, a faint need to throw up forming inside of him. he’s a puppet, a slave and he almost chuckles for thinking he was ever anything else.

they stare at each other in silence, Jungkook feels the rage pooling in the pit of his stomach, the slap his father has delivered burning the skin on his cheek and he wishes that he could lurch forward and clasp his hands around his father’s throat, to release himself from the chains imposed on him from such an early age but he can’t bring himself to do anything else but to take, as he has always done.

Mr. Jeon can see the hate building inside Jungkook’s eyes, forming and spreading the longer they stand there and before his own eyes falter, he looks away and takes a step back.

“Fix this!” his father’s screams.

 “Find her and bring her to me!” he commands and without another word, Jungkook turns. He will find you before his father can, he has caused all of this and now he must protect you at all costs, even if he must go against the very person who has kept him alive all these years. While you strategized wars against him, Jungkook would be reaching to defend you.

And this time he does not bow before his father.

Jungkook brushes past the bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the weight on his waist reminding him of the gun he keeps strapped there for protection. He has just stepped into a lion’s den, a place far out of his territory with 6 of his men standing tall behind him as the fluorescent lights of the night club blind him. His feet move knowingly, following the path he has taken many times before but tonight he has another purpose for his visit, a itch that leads him blind.

Its probably not the best idea for him to be here, not while his brain struggles to form a coherent thought, but he’s grown illogical and no matter how much Taehyung tries to reason with him he can’t stop picturing you when he closes his eyes, growing exhausted with the thought of not having you within reach.

He’s concludes that he misses you, but Taehyung argues that he can’t miss something that has never belonged to him.

For the last 2 weeks he’s gone restless in the search for you, inquiring high and low for a trail he can follow and he’s never been the kind of man that takes no for an answer anyways, he doesn’t make habits out of losing. Its what has led him here tonight, regardless of the danger.

Jungkook hadn’t been himself since that night, letting his anger control his every decision, losing his sanity as he sat in the empty house you had abandoned, pondering over the fact that he no longer had you and he had made it everyone’s problem. There wasn’t a place that had witnessed your presence that would remain untorn, not a person he wouldn’t beat to a pulp for information on your whereabouts and though his tactics were questionable, there isn’t anything that can bring him back. his fixation alone fueling his exhausting search.  

You took up all the spaces in his mind, crowding his senses with guilt and regret. There wasn’t even a corner for concern for his family’s company that had been suffering since your little presentation, shareholders retracting their support while their profits crumbled all while his father tried to repair his reputation with speeches filled with lies and deception, still trying to keep his position as governor.

Like a real politician.

He fills up with irritation as the music thumps into his ears, disrupting his train of thought that now hangs by a thread, thin and snapping lose with each night he spends awake. there’s nothing left of the calm and collected man that everyone has come to know. His resolve unwavering, his determination almost animalistic. 

Jungkook’s steps halt Infront of the staircase and in his way stands a man with all black attire, arms folded over his chest as he eyes Jungkook and his men, he plays with the toothpick nestled between his teeth and leans his head slightly, eyebrow raised.

“I’m here to see your boss” Jungkook states, annoyance rolling from his tongue as he stares the man down.

“Do you have an appointment?” the man responds, inspecting Jungkook from head to toe with a smirk dancing on his lip. Jungkook leans his head back, rolling his neck as frustration begins to build inside of him, his hand slightly gracing his waist band, growing tired of the obstacle that stands in between him and the man he has come here to see.

“Do you know who you’re speaking to?” Taehyung barks over the music, the tension brewing between the group and the man who stands in their way. Taehyung takes a step closer, his own hand gripping the side of his suit jacket where his own gun resides.

“I’m well aware of who you are” the man speaks matter of factly, showcasing a smug smile on his lips.

Jungkook looks into the man’s eyes, rage flashing through them as he takes a step closer too. Patience hasn’t accompanied him in a long time and the ticking clock inside of his mind grows louder the longer this man tests him. Jungkook no longer sees an issue with causing a scene, does not see a problem with putting a bullet into the skull of someone’s son, his reputation is gone anyways and he’s very inclined to prove all those news articles right. He curls his fingers against the black metal pressed to his waist, already smelling the nitroglycerin in the air.

“Move or the next thing you will have an appointment to is the purgatory.”

if he was being honest, he’s been drooling at the thought of bringing his toy out to play since he entered the tacky night club and the thought of being able to use it causes him thrill. A small smile forms on Jungkook’s face, a predatory stare crawling through his eyes.

Tick

Tick

Tick

“Let him through” another man calls from above the stairs and the man in front of him chuckles confidently whilst removing the toothpick from his mouth and taking a step to the side. Jungkook’s eyes never leave him as he begins to climb the stairs and he almost feels disappointed as he pushes the gun back in its place.

Jungkook can feel the eyes of his men watching as he disappears through the corridor, all standing at attention, ready to attack if the order is given. his feet march forward, his eyes now fixed on the door at the end of the long corridor that becomes closer with each heavy step that he takes, the rage he harbors beginning to rise from his fingertips. He yanks at the doorknob and throws the door open, his eyes landing on his target.

“Jungkook!” Yoongi raises his head from the various documents on his desk and smiles wickedly “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jungkook does not return Yoongi’s excitement as he watches him from where he stands, his expression contorting with disgust. Yoongi remains seated, a grim smile remaining on his lips as he notices the glare in Jungkook’s eyes.

“Save me the fucking theatrics Yoongi, where the fuck is my wife?” Jungkook barks, heart pounding rapidly inside of his chest as adrenaline overpowers his every cell.

Yoongi tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowing as he studies Jungkook. He can perceive something has changed in him, a shift in his demeanor that he can’t quiet put his finger on and a sudden thrill takes over him as it clicks inside his mind. Yoongi rises from his seat, his steps slow and dragged as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and comes to stand Infront of Jungkook, toying with the man’s patience.

“wifeee” Yoongi sounds out, dragging the word out in his mouth, chuckling lowly as he taunts Jungkook. “You don’t struggle with that label like she does” he roams his eyes around the room, aware of the piercing glare that Jungkook provides him in exchange.

“interesting” he hums, lowering his head casually whilst his lips display a menacing smile.

“didn’t make you out to be a marriage counselor, Min” Jungkook retorts, rolling his eyes in vexation.

Yoongi laughs, throwing his head back in amusement as he leans against his desk.

“I also didn’t think your thirst for vengeance would lead you to prey on someone innocent” Jungkook adds, emphasizing the last word.

Yoongi scoffs, focusing his eyes back on Jungkook.

“Innocent?” Yoongi asks, his expression pooled with amusement “was your little 1 on 1 with Y/n not enough for you to stop disregarding her potential? It’s in her blood you know, She’s just as much a killer as you and I” Yoongi shrugs.

Jungkook tenses, his anger brewing stronger the longer Yoongi stares at him with merriment. Of course, that bastard would enjoy this, anything that would fulfil his desire to see Jungkook in shambles, even if it meant destroying everything in his path including you but Jungkook would never allow him to twist you in his venomous root, regardless of how entangled you already are.  

“Y/n might be resilient but she’s not a killer, she doesn’t deserve to go down this path and you know that Min” Jungkook spits, his breaths heavy as his voice rises. This time Yoongi glares in his direction, growing bored of the way Jungkook plays the victim, his temper being strained as he stands straight and approaches him.

“You come here under the pretense of concern over someone who you’ve humiliated, broke down, and ignored and I’m the one to blame?” Yoongi raises his brows, surprise in his tone as he stands mere inches away.

Neither man backing down from the rigidity in the air.

“You Jeon’s and your audacity” Yoongi chuckles once again.

“don’t play those games with me Yoongi, I am not the man I used to be” Jungkook warns.

Jungkook doesn’t know what angers him the most, the way that Yoongi laughs in his face or the fact that his words are true, truths he isn’t willing to accept because after all he had his reasons, reasons he doesn’t feel like explaining to someone as beneath him as Yoongi.

“What are you really mad about?” Yoongi asks, his voice a mere whisper as he stares into Jungkook’s eyes without a flinch “that you no longer have control over Y/n or that you served her to me in a golden platter” he sneers.

Jungkook’s eyes widen; his whole-body trembling as he digests the insult. His restless mind races with ideas, imagining the way Yoongi has already poisoned you and then an image plays in his mind, one that causes him to lose his entire demeanor. He pictures Yoongi gliding his hands against your skin, his lips intruding in places that Jungkook has only ever wished to. before he can think about his next move, his fist flies in the air, punching Yoongi in the face with so much force his adversaries body stumbles back, torso slamming against the desk behind him with a loud groan.

“You mention my wife again and ill rip your tongue out of your skull” Jungkook booms violently.

“If you want to come for me and my father for the purpose of whatever sick delusion you have that’s fine, I promise you I will come back at you tenfold, but you leave Y/n out of this, you hear me?”

Yoongi hisses, his fingers finding the edge of his mouth as blood pours down from it, he shoots Jungkook a demonic scowl, quickly standing from his slumped position.

“My alliance is with Y/n and unlike you and your joke of a father, my loyalty will not waiver” Yoongi spits the blood from his mouth, his tongue tracing over the broken skin that Jungkook’s fist has caused “I would never throw her to be slaughtered like you have my father” Yoongi snarls.

Jungkook’s glare falters, recognizing something in Yoongi’s voice as he speaks of you, the way he becomes feral over the accusation he has thrown; over the possibility of putting you in danger. He’s offended, almost like he’s incapable but Jungkook blinks the thought away, he knows Yoongi better then that.

“But don’t get ahead of yourself Jeon what I have prepared for you and your family you will never recover from, and I won’t stop at a gun drawn to your head, they will have to glue you back together when I’m done with you” Yoongi declares.

“You promise?” Jungkook snaps back, tempting the monster that has resided within Yoongi for years since his father’s death.

Yoongi clenches his fist, stepping forward but before he can raise his hand to return the punch that has been delivered, the door flies open and his men pour into the room, guns drawn out as they circle around Jungkook, their fingers latched to the trigger, their eyes landing on the blood dripping down Yoongi’s chin.

“Everything okay boss? We heard some commotion.”

Jungkook tilts his head, counting the men that surround him and he prepares to take them out. his hand grips the gun at his side, swiftly pulling out it out from where it has waited patiently. He’s more than willing to use it, deciding the blood shed might help him release some of the conflict clamped in his mind. the need to destroy urging him to lock his own finger against the trigger. his brain strategizes over which damaged artery would cause the most damage.

tonight, he’s set on redecorating Yoongi’s office.

“Easy boys” Yoongi wipes away at the blood on his face, his eyes falling onto his palm as he inspects the dark red color against his pale skin.

“My visitor here was just leaving” Yoongi says, pulling out his handkerchief and pressing it against his lip.

Jungkook draws his attention back to Yoongi and Yoongi can see the void inside his eyes, the utter need to kill and destroy.

“Come on Min, let me play a little” Jungkook chuckles wickedly.

“don’t worry, there will be a time and a place” Yoongi promises, his own stare resolute and darkened.

“I will be back” Jungkook states, retreating from the room with his weapon tightly grasped in his hand.

“I don’t doubt that you will” Yoongi mutters, signaling for his men to lower their weapons. “Good luck on your search” he calls out, an angered smile forming on his face. 

Jungkook storms down the corridor, fury burning through him as he makes his way back to the entrance. Blood pumping quickly through his veins as he holds tightly on the gun wedged in his palm and for a moment he wants to turn around and run back into that room and fill Yoongi with bullets, dark desires taking over him as he grows frustrated.

He’s leaving empty handed, far more disgruntled than he was when he first entered and with a newfound appetite for carnage, his thoughts retreat to what Yoongi had said. His mind flooding with images of you finding comfort in Yoongi in a way he never allowed you to in him, his selfishness expanding.

Taehyung stands by the door, his eyes scanning the room eerily until he spots Jungkook through the crowd, his eyes landing on the gun in his hand and a knot forms in his throat, concluding the worst.

“You didn’t do anything stupid did you?” is the first thing out of his mouth as Jungkook brushes past him and out of the door.

Taehyung follows behind, his men falling in line after him as he too exits the club. He looks back at the dancing bodies inside and its only when he doesn’t notice any sign of chaos that he breaths, his muscles relaxing as he watches Jungkook enter his car.

“nothing?” Taehyung sighs as he gets into the passenger seat, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

Jungkook yells, slamming his hands against the steering wheel in rage until his palms are sore and reddened, his heart pounding uncontrollably in his chest. he knows he’s losing and every particle of his pride is refraining from accepting it, he wont last another moment without knowing where you are, if you are safe. It is within his same habit of underestimating you that he finds no relief in his worry.

He slips his hand into his pocket, bringing out his phone and swiping through his contacts.

“What now?” Taehyung asks in annoyance, he has spent too many nights crawling the city for you and his mind is exhausted, he wants nothing more then to be a loyal friend to Jungkook but even his faith in him is being pulled thin.

Jungkook presses the phone to his ear, his hands trembling with each ring that rolls out of the speaker and he’s becoming agitated with the sound alone but as he goes to slam the phone against the dashboard the ringing stops.

“Hello?” there’s a groggy voice at the other end of the line and then Jungkook hears shuffling accompanied by heavy breathing.

“Hey” Jungkook responds, sitting up from his defeated position.

There's silence for a moment and then a long sigh fills Jungkook’s ear.

“Do you know what time it is?” the person grumbles.

“I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t important.”

“What do you want Jungkook.”

“That favor that you owe me” Jungkook pauses, eyes peering through his windshield as he glares at the neon sign in front of him, the lights flickering on and off.

“I’m ready to collect it, Seokjin.”

-

𝐮𝐡𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫

𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝! 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮!

𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤/𝐝𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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[pia-nor481]

She…What? Part Seven

Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris x reader

Oscar admits to her that he’s not particularly experienced in the world of sex, yet he doesn’t feel as ashamed about it as he expected. Lando and Daniel have their usual hotel chat in which Lando reminds his friends of his impeding bedtime. Although the Australian would rather spend an evening with her

2.4K words | 18+

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She pulled back slightly, remaining in his lap. "What do you mean, Oscar?" She whispered, eyes wide as her hands slid up his arms slowly. "I'm not really experienced with this kind of thing." The Australian's eyes were closed, hiding his embarrassment. "Ever? Or in terms of a contract relationship?" She questioned with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. Oscar's hands would have made dents in her skin if he was training any harder. "Well I've done some stuff. Just not all the way." A blush rose to his cheeks as she was finally able to see his eyes. 

She slowly moved behind Oscar, wrapping her arms around his neck. "That's okay. Usually I'd be a bit of a tease and and walk away from you right now, leave you high and dry. But I don't have to tease you too much." She giggled resting her chin on top of his head, making his hair impossibly messier. "There's no need to be mean." He pouted, crossing his arms over his chest in disgust. "Hey. I'm not trying to be mean." She gasped in false offence, squeezing his arms playfully. "I'm just informing you of what you're getting involved with." She smiled, pulling away and standing up. "Then we can just talk for a while. Perhaps we can get to know each other better in that time, more than that you're a voyeur." She giggled, taking a small sip of wine, lifting the bottle up slightly. "I don't drink wine." Oscar started, getting up from the bed. "I can only have hard liquor, otherwise my trainer will complain." He finished, reaching for the bottle of whisky. "So you don't drink beer or cider either. Just the the stuff that will get you drunk quicker?" She asked in disbelief. 

Oscar shook his head before speaking. "I hardly drink actually." He turned watching her slowly drink the red liquid, not once looking away from him. "That's going to change soon. Not just because you're winning races now." She smiled, moving through the room gracefully, noticing Oscar's lingering gaze. "You can speak you're mind, I wont judge you." He was finally pulled out of his gaze by her words. "I'm just taken aback." Oscar's filter slowly dissolving after a few sips of the drink. "You're gorgeous." He whispered once he was closer, reaching out to brush his fingers over her face.

Oscar was shocked with how forward he was being, yet he felt so draw in, and he didn't want to be let go. "How sweet of you Oscar." She smiled, pulling him in close, waiting for his reaction. The Australian could feel the blood pumping harshly through his body as his hands came up to cup her cheeks. He groaned quietly, finally feeling his lips against her, the level of relief he felt was unprecedented. Oscar pushed her down slowly, feeling his knee slip between her legs. He didn't know what came over him in that moment, his neurons were clearly delayed to his central nervous system. Oscar pulled back with a quiet 'sorry' before moving to the end of the bed, annoyed with himself, he wasn't one to wear his emotions on his sleeve and so sat there with a straight face, battling his thoughts. "Oscar." She repeated, trying to pull him out of the trance. "I know we said we would only talk, but that doesn't mean I'm upset with you." She reasoned, reaching for his drink and taking a small sip. He raised an eyebrow at her action but didn't move to stop her, if anything he wanted her to continue. He wanted her to completely consume him. 

"What did you want to talk about?" Oscar struggled to get out, his nerves coming through. "What you like, what you want. Anything." She brought the whiskey up to his lips, waiting for him to finish the glass. He was definitely out of his depth here, almost alarmingly so. But Oscar would do anything she asked. "Okay then...I want to know more about how this relationship works, at least in your words." Oscar was always straight to the point she soon came to realise. "Well, it's really whatever you want it to be." She brought her hand up to his hair, running her fingers through the messy strands. "So what is it to Daniel and Lando?" He questioned, focusing on her lips, mainly the colour of the gloss. "You may have to ask them. But from my point of view it feels almost like friends with benefits, at least in a way. It's difficult to describe. But I've know Daniel much longer than Lando so it's a little bit different."

"In what way?" Oscar quizzed, he was clearly a person who liked research. "I suppose it's a bit more romantic with Daniel, at least in a way. He sorts out hotels, flights, holidays and so on. He's much more involved in my personal life than Lando. Not that either of them mind, it's what they want." Oscar was slightly overwhelmed with the information being fed to him, some was left up to his interpretation. "And if i wanted to be more involved with your personal life?" Oscar's eyes fell to his lap momentarily, as if he was preparing himself for the worst. "If that's what you want, then yes." A weight was lifted from the Australian's shoulders and a small smile adorned his face.

A small sigh escaped Oscar's lips before he spoke. "Okay, then how does this work logistically?" She stood up slowly, walking towards the open bottle of wine. "It depends, we all have to talk about certain things, but mostly just call or text me and we go from there. If I'm honest i wouldn't suggest waltzing into this, or any, hotel room. Then again, you like that so." She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm never hearing the end of that, am I?" She giggled and shook her head turning back towards him. "So, what do you like, or at least what do you want to try?" A wave of worry washed over him when her words finally registered, too focused on the way the robe presented her tits. "If I'm being completely honest, I've only done oral, both giving and receiving, but not a whole lot. So I'm not very good at it." Oscar's shame was apparent, he didn't think that he should be as inexperienced as he was, especially at his age. "That's not world ending, you can learn, you can experiment and find out what you like too. There's nothing wrong with that." She tried reassuring him, rubbing her hands over his arms softly. "I don't really know what I want to try." 

At the same time, in Lando's hotel room, Daniel and Lando were discussing the ins and outs of the current relationship. "So, how do you feel about Oscar?" Lando questioned, jumping onto the bed in a childlike manner. "He's alright, we've had a proper chat so, I think it's all good now." Daniel started before placing himself on the end of the bed. "I was being bitter, he wanted the seat and he was concerned about me before signing so it's alright. I think if i drove that third year at McLaren it would have been a career ender for me, I don't even think RB would have me. So maybe Oscar signing was good for me. I don't know." Daniel trailed off looking at the ceiling, this was the first time he'd said such a thing out loud, and it felt good. "And how do you think he's gonna handle her?" Lando continued, rolling onto his stomach. "I think he'll be okay. She won't be as hard on him. She know's he wont be able to handle that level of teasing, I made sure of that." Daniel smirked, turning to see Lando's face. 

"Oh really, it only took a few days to end her teasing."  Lando stated, looking up as if he was imagining the first time he was with her. "You had it easy. Seven months of back and forth flirting before I even had the chance to go out with her. Trust me, you're lucky." The Australian confirmed, pulling his jumper off. "So what? Oscar's gonna get her tomorrow?" Daniel laughed at his friend almost mockingly. "Oh no. She'll make him wait, tease Oscar enough to have him begging for her. It's what she does well. You know that. You just broke before I did." Daniel pulled his phone out of his pocket quickly, looking at the messages she had sent him. "That's not very nice." Lando's hand came up to his heart, clenching the shirt, trying to feign offence. "Don't be dramatic. The amount of times I got blue balls was unreal." Daniel sighed, shaking his head at the painful thought. "I didn't need to know that." Lando groaned, running his fingers through his hair. "Oh please, you've heard worse." He rolled his eyes, locking his phone and sliding it back into his pocket. "Going to bed? That's good, you don't need RB to give you a bedtime." Lando joked, lifting his head up. "No actually, I know what toys she brought so..." Daniel smirked, closing the door before he left. 

Daniel hummed while walking through the hallway of the hotel, looking for room 609. He knocked loudly, excited to see her. "Hey Darling." He said in a husky voice, leaning against the doorframe. "Smooth." She laughed, pulling him into the room by the collar of his shirt. "So what did you learn?" Daniel's excitement was radiating from him as he walked towards her suitcase. "A few things, mostly that he's not that experienced." She stated, climbing on the bed, looking over at Daniel, who seemed to be in a very difficult internal debate. "Of course, both me and Lando are sluts. How could I forget." Daniel joked, walking back towards the bed. "You've got qualifying tomorrow, you need rest." She reasoned. Daniel had spent so much time and effort getting back into the sport, and she didn't want to be the reason he couldn't get a top seat. "It's fine Darling, it's not even late." Daniel emphasise his point by showing her his watch. She rolled her eyes playfully, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I can't believe you. Lando really is blind." Daniel laughed, stripping of his clothes. "You know I had to explain to him how long you were teasing me for. He didn't believe it." She stood up, slowly undoing the belt of the robe, letting it fall to the ground slowly, revealing lace underwear. She bent over slightly, reaching for the waistband before Daniel spoke. "I don't think so. Come here." He lifted his hand up, pulling her down. "And you complain about me teasing." She joked, reaching up to tug on his hair lightly. "Don't start with me, not tonight. And you were the one complaining about sleep, look at you now." Daniel hands came to rest behind her knees and he shifted his body slightly. His right hand traveled from her knee up to her thing, feather light touches teasing her. His fingers danced over her skin and his eyes shifted up, looking for a reaction. "Daniel." She scolded. "Oh government name. I really must be in trouble." Daniel's hands finally made it to her pelvis, toying with the lace before tugging on the waistband. Soon the sound of vibrating met her ears. "Danny." Her gasp bounced off the walls as her hands grasped the bedsheets. "Careful. Don't want Oscar to hear." Daniel's playful tone didn't go unnoticed. Daniel pressed the red vibrator onto her clit harshly, enjoying the look on her face. Daniel lifted the toy away from her before placing in back, teasing as much as he could. "That's it." He whispered, lifting her leg up higher, needing to get closer. She could feel the vibrations coursing through her whole body, sending goosebumps up her arms and pulling quiet moans form her lips. "Stop teasing me Danny." She spoke though gasps, eyes wide open, noticing the smirk adorning his face. "Oh but you like teasing" 

Daniel was quick to push the lace to the side and line his cock up with her cunt, rubbing the tip over her clit lightly. "Always making me wait. Lucky I don't do the same to you." He uttered, slowly pushing his cock in, inch by inch. Her legs wrapped around Daniel's waist quicky, pulling him in closer. "That's it." She whispered as Daniel began to rock his hips, slowly to start, before he connected their lips. There was a level of almost unknown passion, almost as if she had manifested it. They both knew that there was a romantic aspect to their relationship, but even now, they were surprised. Daniel's hands didn't move from her skin. He wanted to be close to her, he didn't want her to ever leave him, he needed her with him. Daniel's groans and grunts filled the room as he got closer, her voice only edging him closer. "So close, Darling." The Australian gasps, pushing into her cunt fast, desperate to finish. "Gonna cum. Fuck." Daniel painted her stomach white with a loud groan, his head fell into the curve of her neck, panting loudly.

"So good to me, Darling." Daniel whispered into her skin, although those were the only coherent words the only ones she could understand. She threaded her hands through his hair, playing with his curls. "So pretty." The Australian had is eyes closed, thinking about their time together, from when they first met to six months ago. He focused on her, no matter if they were in a hotel or a beach, it was all her.

They laid on the bed in comfortable silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other. "We can shower in the morning, I just want to stay here." She whispered, pulling Daniel impossibly closer. He nodded into her skin before speaking, "Come here...Just want to stay with you." They shifted so they were covered with the quilt, Daniel's arms circled her middle, keeping her close. "What's the plan for tomorrow then?" She asked, looking up at Daniel with a sweet smile. "We'll go get some food and take a nice track walk before free practice." She nodded wordlessly, resting her head on his chest. Darkness filled the room as her eyes closed, feeling Daniel's fingers draw shapes mindlessly on her back. Just as sleep began to overtake her she felt Daniel kiss her cheek before she heard his words. "I love you, Darling."

[excalculus]

I saw some mentions of rabies going around again and have no clue what's set it off this time, but given recent scientific developments I want to revisit the idea of curing symptomatic rabies.

First things first: there is still no practical way to do this. The famous Milwaukee Protocol fails far more frequently than it succeeds, and even the successes are not making it out in anything like a normal state. It's been argued that it should no longer be considered a valid treatment [1] due to these issues; any continued use is because there's literally nothing else on the table.

However. There are now two separate studies showing it's possible to cure rabies in mice after the onset of symptoms. The lengths you have to go to in order to pull this off are drastic, to put it mildly, and couldn't really be adapted to humans even if you wanted to. But proof of concept is now on the board.

long post under the cut, warnings for animal experimentation and animal death. full bibliography at the end and first mention of each source links to paper.

Quick recap - rabies is a viral disease of mammals usually transmitted through the saliva of an infected animal. From a contaminated bite wound, it propagates slowly for anywhere from days to months until it reaches the central nervous system (CNS). Post-exposure vaccination can head it off during this phase, but once it reaches the CNS and neurological symptoms appear it's game over. There will typically be a prodromal phase where the animal doesn't act right - out at the wrong time of day, disoriented, abnormally friendly, etc. This will then progress to the furious (stereotypical "mad dog" disease) and/or paralytic phases, with death eventually caused by either seizures or paralysis of the muscles needed for breathing.

That's the course we're familiar with in larger animals. Mice, though, are fragile little creatures with fast metabolisms.

In the first study's rabies infection model, lab mice show rabies virus in the spinal cord by day 4 after infection and in the brain by day 5. Weight loss and slower movement start by day 7, paralysis starting from the hind limbs from day 8 on, and if not euthanized first they're dead by day 10-13. [2]

This study (fittingly conducted at the Institut Pasteur) had two human monoclonal antibodies, and wanted to see if there was any possibility they could be used to cure rabies after what we think of as the point of no return.

Injecting the antibodies into muscle saved some mice if done at days 2 or 4, and none if done later, even at high doses of 20 milligrams per kilogram of body weight of each. Conclusion: targeting the virus out in the rest of the body is no use if it's already replicating in the CNS.

Getting a drug past the blood-brain barrier is, to use a highly technical term, really fucking hard. It's the sort of problem that even the best-funded labs and biggest companies in the world routinely fail at. And that's for small molecule drugs, which are puny compared to antibodies.

But this isn't drug development for a clinical trial. This is a very, very early proof-of-concept attempt, which means you're willing to ignore practicality to see if this idea is even remotely workable. So you can do things like brute force the issue by cutting through the skull to implant a microinfusion pump, which lets you deliver the antibodies directly into the normally-protected space around the brain. Combine this with the normal injections, and you can treat both the CNS and the rest of the body at the same time. Here's a survival graph of treated mice. X axis is days, Y axis is percentage of mice in that group still alive.

Figure 2A from reference 2, accessed February 2024

The fact that the blue, green, and purple lines did anything other than sink horribly to zero is unheard of. When the combination treatment was started at day 6, 100% of the mice survived. Started at day 7 (prodromal phase), 5 out of 9 mice recovered and survived. Started at day 8 (solidly symptomatic, paralysis already starting to set in), 5 of 15 mice recovered and survived. And when they say "survived", they kept these mice all the way to day 100 to make sure. Some of them had permanent minor paralysis but largely they were back to being normal mice doing normal mouse things. So, success, but by pretty extreme means.

Enter the second paper [3]. This was a different approach using a single human monoclonal antibody against Australian bat lyssavirus (ABLV - closely related to rabies, similar symptoms in humans) to try for a cure without needing to deliver treatments directly into the CNS. They also made a luminescent version of ABLV that let them directly image viral activity, so they could see both where the virus was replicating and how much there was in a live mouse.

Figure 1 from reference 3, accessed February 2024

Mice infected with ABLV start showing symptoms around day 8. You can see in the figure that at day 3 there's viral replication in the foot at the site of infection, which has shifted into the spine and brain by day 10. So what happens if you give one of these doomed mice one single injection of the antibody into the body?

Done at day 3, the virus doesn't make it to the brain until day 14, and while disease does set in after that around 30% of the mice survive. Days 5 and 7 are much more interesting. Those mice still develop symptoms at day 8, but the imaging shows the amount of virus in their spines and brains never gets anywhere near the levels seen in untreated controls, and within days it starts to decrease. Around 80% of day 5 and 100% of day 7 mice survive.

Okay, sure, you can stop another lyssavirus, but technically you did start treatment before symptoms appeared. What about symptomatic rabies?

The rodent-adapted rabies strain CVS-11 starts causing symptoms as early as day 3 after infection, and untreated mice die between days 8 and 11. The same single dose of antibody saved 67% of mice treated on day 5 and 50% of mice treated on day 7. Without making the luminescent version of the virus there's no real-time imaging of the infection, but you can still track symptoms.

Figure 2 from reference 3, accessed February 2024. CVS-11 is the name of the rodent rabies strain and F11 is the name of the antibody.

Disease score is a combination of several metrics including things like whether the mice are behaving normally and whether they show signs of paralysis. In untreated mice it goes up and up, and then they die. If one of those lines starts coming back down and continues past day 10 or so, that's a mouse that recovered. The success rate isn't as good as against ABLV, but again, this is a rabies strain specifically adapted to rodents and treatment wasn't started until it was well-established in the CNS.

So how on earth is this happening? The antibody neutralizes both ABLV and rabies really well in a test tube, but we've already established that there's no way a huge lumbering antibody is making it past the blood-brain barrier without serious help. Something about the immune response is clearly making it in there though. And it turns out that if you start trying this cure in mice missing various parts of their immune systems, mice without CD4+ T cells don't survive even with the treatment. By contrast mice without CD8+ T cells take longer to work through the infection, but they eventually manage it and are immune to reinfection afterwards.

To grossly oversimplify the immune system here, CD4+ are mature helper T cells, which work mostly by activating other immune cells like macrophages (white blood cells) and CD8+ T cells (killer T cells) against a threat.

Normally, T cells are also kept out by the blood-brain barrier, but we know that in certain specific cases including viral infection they can pass it to migrate into the brain. In the brains of the infected mice for which antibody treatment either wasn't given or didn't work, you can find a roughly even mix of CD8+ and CD4+ T cells along with a whole lot of viral RNA. But in the brains of those successfully fighting off the infection, there's less viral RNA and the cells are almost exclusively CD4+. So the antibody doesn't work by neutralizing the virus directly - something about it is activating the animal's own immune system in a way that gives it a fighting chance.

Again, neither of these proof of concept treatments is really workable yet as a real world cure. The first one is almost hilariously overkill and still has a pretty good chance of failure. The second is less invasive but careful sequencing still shows both low-level viral replication and signs of immune response in the brains of the survivors even at day 139, so it may not be truly clearing the virus so much as trading a death sentence for life with a low-level chronic infection. But now we know that 1. curing rabies after symptoms begin is at least theoretically possible, and 2. we have some clues as to mechanisms to investigate further.

Not today. Not tomorrow. But maybe not never, either.

References:

Zeiler, F. A., & Jackson, A. C. (2016). Critical appraisal of the Milwaukee protocol for rabies: this failed approach should be abandoned. Canadian Journal of Neurological Sciences, 43(1), 44-51.

de Melo, G. D., Sonthonnax, F., Lepousez, G., Jouvion, G., Minola, A., Zatta, F., ... & Bourhy, H. (2020). A combination of two human monoclonal antibodies cures symptomatic rabies. EMBO molecular medicine, 12(11), e12628.

Mastraccio, K. E., Huaman, C., Coggins, S. A. A., Clouse, C., Rader, M., Yan, L., ... & Schaefer, B. C. (2023). mAb therapy controls CNS‐resident lyssavirus infection via a CD4 T cell‐dependent mechanism. EMBO Molecular Medicine, 15(10), e16394.

[businesspikuk]

How to Choose the Right Energy-Efficient Central Heating Circulation Pump

With so many energy-efficient central heating circulation pumps on the market, choosing the right one for your home can seem like a daunting task. However, by considering a few key factors, you can ensure that you select a pump that meets your heating needs while maximizing efficiency and savings.

The first thing to consider when choosing a new pump is the size and layout of your home. Larger homes with multiple floors or zones may require a more powerful pump to ensure adequate circulation of hot water to all areas. Conversely, smaller homes or apartments may be able to make do with a smaller, less powerful pump.

Next, you'll want to consider the energy efficiency rating of the pump. Look for pumps that have earned the ENERGY STAR label, which indicates that they meet strict efficiency guidelines set by the Environmental Protection Agency. ENERGY STAR pumps are typically up to 30% more efficient than standard models, helping you to save money on your energy bills while reducing your environmental impact.

Additionally, pay attention to the pump's flow rate and head pressure capabilities. A higher flow rate means that the pump can move more water through your system in less time, while a higher head pressure indicates the pump's ability to overcome resistance in your pipes and radiators. Ideally, you'll want a pump with a balance of both to ensure efficient and effective operation.

Finally, consider any additional features or technologies that the pump may offer. For example, some pumps come with built-in variable speed settings, allowing you to adjust the flow of water to match your specific heating needs. Others may incorporate smart technology that allows for remote monitoring and control of your heating system, maximizing efficiency and convenience.

In conclusion, choosing the right energy-efficient central heating circulation pump is essential for maximizing comfort, efficiency, and savings in your home. By considering factors such as size, efficiency rating, flow rate, and additional features, you can select a pump that meets your needs and helps you to achieve your energy-saving goals.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 58

part 1 | part 57 | ao3

@steddie-island said i wasn't allowed to cut this lol. cw: angst, canon typical horror, mentions of minor character death

“Lucas called me a ghost today.”

Steve almost laughs, bitter and sharp. Sure. Why not? What’s one more ghost in his passenger seat?

He doesn't really want to talk to her right now, if he's honest. It's been fifteen minutes and she still hasn't apologized for trying to rob him, or explained where they're going, or what spooked her, or why this car ride was so urgent that he had to risk his job for it — a job he actually needs, considering his, well, everything. She's hardly said anything beyond the occasional "turn here" or "next left" while sulking with her forehead pressed against the window.

But he can tell she has something she needs to get off her chest, so he swallows his annoyance and offers, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says back. Doesn't elaborate.

He gives her another minute to gather her words, watches her open and close her mouth a few times in his periphery, but nothing comes out. She scoffs at herself and abruptly changes the subject. “Eddie was being extra… well, extra today.”

“Was he?” Steve asks, his bones itching under his skin. He doesn't want to talk about Eddie. Doesn't want to think his name.

“Yeah, he, uh- he was kinda manic? He was, like, running all over the cafeteria and starting shit with Jason Carver...” And he's only half-listening, anger simmering as she goes on and on, because she promised that Dustin didn't put her up to this. Said that this wasn't some bullshit excuse to get him to talk about Eddie or hang out with Eddie or think about Eddie or kiss and make up with fucking Eddie, and now she's just talking about him, and it-

And it hurts; god, it still just hurts—

"....Then he started rambling about how he can’t wait to get the hell out of here when he graduates.”

Searing-stabbing-burning-sharp. Steve clutches at the flare of pain in his chest, the crushed soda-can feeling where his heart's supposed to be. His head pounds. He follows her next direction onto a winding, tree-lined road, the canopy suffocating overhead, and his skin feels too dry — too tight, too small, shrink-wrapping him inside of it, because he knows where they are now. Knows the tilt of the rusted lamp shade, the shape of the weather brick paths. He's tasted the metal tang of this stop sign in his nightmares.

Fuck. Fuck.

"Cool," he grits out as he drives through the cemetery gates. Past stone and wrought iron, past the empty central fountain. He hasn't been here since July. “Good for him.”

“Steve-"

“Why are you telling me this?" he snaps. He throws the car in park under an old oak and turns to glare at her, barking a frustrated, "Huh?"

Immediately, he feels bad for raising his voice. Feels even worse for the way she flinches away. The naked fear on her face, her hand reaching for the door. He takes a long, deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose. “Sorry. Sorry. Just-" There's a leak inside him somewhere; some infected, gaping hole, and his stupid heart keeps pumping all his blood into the wound. "Why are you-?”

“Look,” she says sharply, "I know it sucks. To talk about him." She's staring at the rows of headstones up ahead, her face gone steely with determination, her shoulders squared, her big eyes wide and a little wet when she turns to meet his gaze. “But whatever you were— whatever happened, it just… it really messed him up.”

Good. "You sound like Dustin."

"Maybe Dustin had a point."

"Since when?"

She throws her hands up, nostrils flaring. "I'm trying to tell you that I think he still cares!"

“Yeah? He’s got a seriously fucked up way of showing it if so!”

“Yeah, well some of us don’t know how to show it!”

And oh.

Oh.

Silence blankets them like dust. Eyes locked; harsh breaths. This has nothing to do with him and Eddie, does it?

Lucas called me a ghost.

Steve sighs and slumps forward, his forearms on the wheel, his chin resting on his wrist. The late afternoon sun is warm through the glass, and his head gives another nasty throb as he looks out over the hill, at the polished stones glinting in the golden hour rays.

His dad is buried here.

A lot of people are.

“Hey,” he murmurs, rolling his neck to look at her. The skin under her eyes is red. "Sorry for yelling."

She sniffs quietly. "Me, too."

He reaches over and gives her hand a quick squeeze, keeping his voice low and gentle. "You know you can just talk to me, right? Max, talk to me. Please.”

Her bottom lip quivers. “It’s nothing, okay?” She sinks down in her seat, crossing her arms to shield herself. “Shit’s just been… it’s just been weird all week. Like- like bad weird, and I don't know if I'm just going crazy, or— I mean, maybe Ms. Kelley's right, maybe's it's just— but it feels like…”

"Like what?"

She holds a hand out flat in front of her; flips her wrist over slowly so her palm faces the sky.

Steve's blood runs cold. He thinks of his own nightmares: the weird visions, the headaches, the persistent haunted feeling.

"I don't know anything for sure," she insists, rushing to reassure him before he can fully start to panic. "Seriously, don't freak out; I haven't, like, seen any gates or anything, it's just— bad dreams. Nose bleeds. I don't know." She hoists her backpack onto her shoulder. "I thought coming here might help."

He catches her by the arm, raking his eyes over her face, looking for any signs of danger. "Is there anything I can do?"

She shakes her head no and tugs free of his grip, and then she's slipping out of the car, letting the door fall shut behind her, and Steve watches her crest the hill while sirens wail inside his head.

—

part 59

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[wileys-russo]

camp champ II n.charles x reader

had lots of reqs for some niamhy content so here we have a lil bit of angst and a lil bit of softness camp champ II n.charles x reader

"your missus is out of control man." you looked up from your book with an amused smile as ella collapsed into the bean bag beside you with an annoyed huff. "whats she done then?" you chuckled raising an eyebrow and snapping your book closed.

"she is refusing to get off the table tennis unless someone beats her and her ego's the size of australia!" ella groaned dragging her hands down her face, her head moving to thump into your lap.

you were all at base camp in the central coast of australia, riding out the high of your first win in the knock out rounds of the world cup. you had tomorrow off so most of the girls had made plans to spend the day together, almost the whole team staying up late still riddled with adrenaline from the victory.

"go sort her out, please!" ella begged, throwing her hands up into the air as alessia joined the two of you, annoyed scowl on her face. "niamh?" you asked, wincing as alessia nodded frantically, frown deepening as she crossed her arms.

"she smacked me with the paddle!" alessia accused, ella moving off of you to lay on top of her now as the two of them looked to you expectantly. "y/l/n!" you looked behind you before you could even say another word, millie, rachel and hempo all charging over now.

"mate your girlfrie-" rachel started angrily as you held up a hand, silencing their chatter. "yeah yeah, i'll sort her out." you sighed, having wanted to get a good start on your book tonight with niamhs attention elsewhere but clearly that was off the cards, your girlfriend apparently unable to be left alone without supervision.

"she's relentless!" "she's a bully man!" "she's annoyingly good at table tennis." "she's not even that good she just hits the shit out of it!" "i'd like to smack the shit out of her!"

"okay okay! i'm goin." you rolled your eyes as all five girls continued to talk at you, waving them off as they all sat together, your book tucked under your arm as you left, heading down toward the rec room.

as you entered the sight before you had you sighing, shaking your head unsurprised.

a few of your friends seemed to be lined up waiting for their turn, esme stepping up with a hesitant look and asking your girlfriend to go easy, niamhs smirk only growing as she sarcastically agreed.

you winced as esme served and niamh smashed the ball back, the blonde darting out of the way with a yelp, dropping her paddle to the floor as niamh cheered, pumping her fists.

she clearly couldn't but you quickly picked up the tense vibe in the room, the unimpressed scowls and closed off body language of your team mates even further proving the point the brunette was doing a tremendous job of isolating herself with her cockiness.

"niamhy." you approached the table, not missing the way esme sighed in relief at the sight of you and a few of your team mates mumbled to one another. "mm?" the girl didn't even look at you, instead egging esme on to serve.

"think its time we head up babe, its gettin late." you tried, a few of the girls backing you up as niamh waved it off. "nah i'll be up later. i'm on a winning streak, the camp champ is on a roll!” the older girl smirked happily as esme hesitantly served, niamh once again smashing it back at her as this time she attempted to hit it back but it went sailing into the net.

"niamhy come on, let someone else have a go now." you sighed, feeling as though you were scolding a greedy child rather than your fully grown twenty four year old girlfriend.

"thats not the rules love, if someone beats me they take my place. and so far they're a bunch of losers!" niamh grinned, again missing the unimpressed eye rolls of your friends, a couple more of the girls giving up with a mumble and wandering off.

"niamh you're acting like a five year old. you've been at this for hours now, share!" you rolled your eyes, the brunette finally meeting your gaze as you raised your eyebrows. "fine. you beat me, i give up and we go to bed." she challenged with a smirk, esme very happily offering you her paddle.

"go on, shut her up for once please!" jess all but begged quietly beside you as niamh shot her a look before her eyes returned to you as you sighed. "mind this please." you mumbled to esme, trading her your book for her paddle as her body all but crumpled in relief.

"hey! wheres my support?" your girlfriend scowled as the girls all cheered for you, again missing out on the fact she'd clearly rubbed them all the wrong way tonight as you tossed her the ball.

"i'll go easy on you baby." niamh smiled charmingly, twirling the ball inbetween her fingers as you rolled your eyes and gestured for her to serve.

true to her word she hit it with a hell of lot less force than she'd been whacking it at the rest of the girls tonight and the two of you got into a rally, attracting the attention of a few more members of the team.

niamhs frown deepened as again they all cheered you on, and you recognized the competitive look shift into her features as you took advantage of her slight dip in attention and managed to score a point.

"niamh." you warned as she huffed, readying for the serve. ignoring you she sent it your way with some force, your arm only just able to shoot out and make contact as the ball went skidding off beside you, smile now returning to her face as georgia handed you the ball back.

"hurry up!" the defender moaned impatiently as your eyes narrowed, rolling your shoulders and serving, again the two of you getting into a rally before your girlfriend smashed it and you ducked as it bounced over your head.

"steady on!" you scoffed with a glare as the brunette shrugged. "can't handle playing with the big girls then hand the paddle over babe." she smirked, infuriatingly attractive as she did but you refused to be enamored by her tonight.

"pardon?" you gave her a chance to apologize, a few of the girls whistling and pulling faces. "your serve." she grinned, bouncing the ball back to you as you rolled your eyes. "take it easy, this isn't the olympics."

"if it were i'd already be top of the podium with the gold."

you only sighed at her cockiness, serving to her and not even getting the chance for a rally as niamh's arm swung back and she connected with the ball, sending it hurtling into your cheek with a smack

you dropped the paddle and clutched your face with a hiss of pain as a couple of the girls hurried over to look you over with concerned frowns, a nasty red welt already forming as your girlfriend looked on in shock.

"niamh louise charles!" you roared angrily as she dropped the paddle to the floor, eyes filled with fear as your team mates parted not wanting to be in your way. "go!" you ordered pointing to the door as her head dropped and she sulked off, dragging her feet.

"fucking thank you!" lucy groaned in relief, taking her place as esme and jess fussed over you. "ill be fine, just a nice little shiner tomorrow." you sighed with a pained smile, collecting your book from the tall blonde and wishing her and jess goodnight, hugging a few of the girls on your way out.

it didn't surprise you to not find niamh waiting anywhere for you, the girl clearly having run away in fear after her actions, likely already practicing her apology in your shared room.

"woah what the hells happened to you?" millie and mary ducked into the elevator after you, headed up to their own rooms as millie grabbed your face turning it side to side. "niamh!" you huffed with a scowl.

"she hit you?" mary spat in disbelief, fists clenching by her sides. "yeah with the fucking table tennis ball!" you frowned as the goalkeeper let out a small sigh of relief and you pushed away millies large hands.

"are we still on for tomorrow?" you asked changing the subject, not missing the look shared between the two older girls as the elevator stopped on their floor first.

"not tomorrow, we all need a niamh break she's been insufferable with her bloody table tennis and her attitude!" millie answered as the two of them stepped out and you stopped the door with your foot.

"what! why am i being punished for that?" you frowned as mary squeezed your cheek apologetically. "guilty by association. where you go, she goes. sorry!" and with that they were off toward their own rooms ignoring your calls after them.

your mood now somehow worse with your girlfriend having no idea what was coming to her you brooded silently in the elevator, marching to your room as the doors opened.

sure enough as you stepped inside her head snapped up, having already changed into more comfier clothes. she opened her mouth to speak but you didn't give her the chance, and she winced as the bathroom door slammed shut.

a hot shower helped to ease your anger a little, annoyed not only at the stinging tenderness of your cheek but also that your plans for your day off tomorrow had been tanked for a reason you couldn't even help or control.

normally had you stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel the taller girl would be on you within a second, showering you with cheesy compliments and attacking your lips feverishly with hers.

but you were instead met with a tense silence as you hunted about in your case for clothes, slipping on a pair of nike shorts and a large faded harley davidson tee you'd worn to death and back, always stealing it back from niamh whose closet it just so happened to accidentally appear in.

you felt a tap on your shoulder as you grabbed out your hair brush, glancing over to see your girlfriend offering you up her favorite hoodie with a hopeful look, you not having spent a single night all tournament not sleeping in it.

which is why she realized just how badly she'd messed up as you turned back around wordlessly, grabbing a jumper of your own and slipping it on, ignoring her completely.

as you brushed out the tangles in your hair you made your way around to the other bed, neatly made and so far untouched, you and your girlfriend having only slept together in the other bed which niamh was currently perched on.

you pulled back the covers cringing silently at the unrustled sheets but getting in none the less, punching your pillow a few times to soften it up and getting comfortable, placing your brush down on the bedside table.

your back now facing her niamh sighed, rubbing the back of her neck as you busied yourself with your phone, still ignoring her completely not having said a word since you'd entered the room around an hour ago, and it was killing her.

she waited a few more minutes, ticking things over in her head and going to use the toilet, flicking off the light sending the room into a dim darkness, only illuminated by the lamp on her side and the blue light of your phone.

you weren't surprised to feel the bed dip behind you, an all too familiar hand landing hesitantly on your side. "baby-" she started softly as you pushed her hand away with a huff. "i think i'd rather you yell at me and bite my head off than ignore me much longer." niamh admitted honestly with a frown as you resisted the urge to meet her eyes.

"which is exactly why i have been ignoring you." you mumbled, the defender perking up just slightly at the sound of your voice. "baby, beautiful girl, love of my life, keeper of my heart, owner of-" she started to grovel, eyes boring a hole in the back of your head.

"this is one situation that cheap flattery and cute nicknames will not get out out of charles." you warned sharply as her words fell short and she sighed.

"love i am so so sorry i got carried away. i lost my head and i was an arrogant cocky idiot, and unfortunately you were the collateral and i can't apologise enough. please!" she apologised with hopeful eyes as you sighed, dropping your phone onto the table and turning onto your back.

"thats one word for it!" you pointed to your cheek, finally meeting her gaze as the taller girl winced. "i'm so sorry baby, really. i can't say it enough!" she mumbled, leaning down to gently grab your chin, turning your head slightly and inspecing the fast forming bruise.

you stayed silent as she pressed a few very cautious kisses to the tender skin, running over it with her thumb as her eyebrows knitted together into a concerned frown. "if its still sore tomorrow i'm taking you to the medics to get it looked at." she stated more than asked.

"mary thought you hit me." you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as niamh's eyes widened in shock. "what? i would never ever! does she still think that? oh my god she's going to kill me." the defender squeaked in sheer terror as a small smile formed on your face.

"no i told her the only thing you assaulted me with was a stupid plastic ball." you sighed as she breathed out in relief, continually muttering her gratitude. "but your behaviour means i am now suffering the consequences in more ways than one!" you sat up a little more and fixed her with a glare.

"what'd ya mean love?" she frowned confused at your words. "you may been too thick to have picked up on it but your little i'm a superstar at table tennis routine has ruffled a lot of feathers niamhy, you have made some friends turn into enemies!" you warned seriously, poking at her shoulder.

"maybe i have been a little bit much." she admitted quietly with a sheepish wince and you only hummed. "and now because of that no one will let me hang out with them tomorrow because they all need and i quote 'a niamh break'." you bent your fingers sarcastically as her eyes widened.

"a what?" "yeah! i had plans and now they're ruined and its all your fault. dickhead!" you kicked her lightly from under the covers with a huff.

"m'sorry baby." she apologized sincerely, opening her arms hopefully as you hesitated for a moment before giving in with a sigh, shuffling over and melting into them.

you breathed in the scent of her body wash feeling a familiar sense of calm settle over you as she squeezed you tightly, laying the two of you back down as you got properly comfortable, your head tucked into her neck.

"how about instead i take you on a date tomorrow? a proper one. i'll organise everything!" she asked softly, glancing down at you hopefully as you nodded. "i think thats the least you can do. and you'll apologise to all of the girls at breakfast tomorrow!" you warned as she eagerly agreed.

"i promise i'll fix everything tomorrow and take you on the best australian date you'll ever have. may i have a kiss now please?" she asked with a small pout as you rolled your eyes, lifting your chin up as she met your mouth halfway.

the last few drops of your animosity and anger toward the defender melted away at the blissful feeling of her lips moving against yours, her hands on the small of your back flushing your bodies as close together as she could as you hooked one leg over her hips, moving on top of her.

the brunette sighed happily as you straddled her, tangling your hands in her hair and scratching at her scalp sending a slight shiver down her spine as her own hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging in and likely leaving a small bruise as she swiped her tongue across your bottom lip quickly taking control of the kiss.

now you sighed in pleasure as her tongue roamed your mouth, hands moving your hips to rock against her slightly as your forehead pressed to her shoulder and she broke the kiss, lips focusing now on your neck as one hand moved to brush your hair out of the way and nudging your head to the side giving her a little more room to work with.

“baby i’m so sorry but can we please move to the other bed? this is so stiff and weird it’s killing me!” she broke away with a guilty smile as you couldn’t help but laugh quietly, unable to disagree as the two of you quickly moved back into your regular bed, taking up your normal positions.

“cuddles and back scratches please baby.” niamh requested tiredly after she’d flicked off the lamp, shuffling her taller body around to press into you just how she liked making you smile.

“back scratches.” she mumbled again, taking your hand and dropping it on her back as she pressed a few lazy kisses to your jaw, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear as your nails raked gently up and down her back.

“my needy niamhy.” you teased softly, affectionally kissing her forehead as she whined, pinching your leg for the nickname, eyes already squeezed shut and you knew it wasn’t long before she’d drift off, having done this little routine with her for years now.

“stop teasing me, i just love you and i wanna be all up and close to you.” she grumbled grumpily, squeezing you tightly to prove her point.

“sorry baby. camp champ just needs her cuddles, hm?”

[lovekendri]

shameless | finnick odair

finnick odair x fem!reader

request: Hiii! i love your peeta fics, would you be able to do a Finnick story kinda the same as your one with peeta where it’s the reader’s first time? ♥️

thank you so much for your request @emiiixx! this was originally just going to be a fluffy fun spicy fic but i think this might have what you're looking for! ♡

summary: you attend a celebration party for your boyfriend's 10th anniversary as a hunger games victor, his charisma leads you to your first time.

cw: 18+ only! established relationship, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), bit of a pleasure dom!finnick, inexperienced!reader, mention of fingering, tiny bit of a choking kink, praise kink, marking kink if you squint, aftercare!

wc: 2.6k

type: ❀ | ✽

Loud yet incoherent music pumped throughout the crowded central area of District 4, a celebration for none other than your boyfriend.

You were lost in crowds of people and circles of tables, yet flooded with questions and admiration of how incredibly lucky you were to have such a desirable man, how delightful he must be to have around your finger.

In reality, you were wrapped around his finger.

He was yours, you were his, it was a truly simple relationship to the unlucky outsiders. From afar, you'd watch him be spun around by eager teenage girls and obsessed older ladies, desperate middle aged mothers and intoxicated younger girls. You watched him receive kisses on the cheeks, girls jumping for just a single peck anywhere near his lips.

He was yours.

A cup in your hand and surrounded by teenage girls dying to know what a kisser he was at their young age, you felt superior to consider him yours.

"He's definitely a good kisser, right?" one girl would chirp, pleading to be heard over the boom of loud speakers.

"What about a tongue kisser? Does he like that?" another would pry.

"My boyfriend loves to do that stuff," the third would drawl, fanning herself in exclamation.

"Oh, honey, I don't think you know the next thing about tongue kissing yet," you'd say, giving a breathy laugh. "You'll get there."

You walked past multiple groups of people, some who wouldn't acknowledge you, but others who waved politely and said hello.

Your target was Finnick, and as you walked up to him, you set a light hand on his shoulder and trailed your fingers around his black collared shirt.

It was your favorite way to get his attention.

He turned to you almost immediately, a glint of light in his eyes appeared and a playful grin grew on his face as he trailed you walking around to his side, signature smile glowing.

He admired your matching sparkly black dress, taking in the sight before speaking.

"I missed your face, pretty girl," he said, just loud enough to hear over the blare of music, taking your jaw into his rough hand and grazing your lips with his thumb. His hand was swift to trail around your neck and down your back to pull you to his side.

Loud cheers from a group of people sounded from behind you at the gesture, as you two were the life of the party. He smiled at the acknowledgement, your giggle lighting up his face. He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead softly, fingers squeezing at your side.

Besides fighting off girls, he was talking to other mentors and victors of District 4, popular among the other Careers who had fought alike to the death. It was common to have them over at your house in Victor's Village to have small gatherings and dinners.

"I'll say day after day, lucky woman," a female victor said to you, winking at you and nodding her head toward Finnick.

"Oh, please. I'm sure you could get him any day, having won the Hunger Games and all," you joked back, ignoring the playful glare down from Finnick and the bite of his fingers digging into your side to pull you closer.

Her name was Rose, and she was a bit of an older lady, probably in her late 30's, early 40's. She supposedly won the Games when she was 16, pretty much the average age to win, but she was pretty, blonde, tall, and looked surprisingly young. Though, you suppose, the Capitol helps out with that a bit.

Rose and another male victor laughed with you as Finnick rolled his eyes and sputtered about how he wishes he could strangle you sometimes, and that you drive him insane most days.

"Man," Finnick lowered his voice to talk in the small circle of four other people as they leaned in to hear him, "I'd enjoy some sugar cubes and sparkling juice in the comfort of my own home right now."

The victors in the circle laughed nodding in agreement. You watched a male victor put his hands into his pockets, his posture slouching back in his dress shirt and pants. Another victor took a sip of his drink, while Rose looked toward Finnick.

"You should share some sugar cubes with your lovely girlfriend," she joked, "I'm sure she'd love them."

Finnick turned to you, nodding.

"I know it's my party, but I'm sneaking out of here," he laughed, "nobody will notice anyways with you guys around."

Finnick winked at Rose and another victor that was paying attention, sliding his hand into yours and pulling you away from the party, pushing through a small gate to lead you toward Victor's Village.

He was practically dragging you through roads.

"Slow down!" you laughed, "we don't have to fly out of the party!"

He stopped dead in his tracks, halfway down a lit street toward his house. Not expecting him to stop so abruptly, you slammed into him.

"Not that slow!" you said, playfully punching his arm as you giggled out the pain in your cheek that you felt.

"Oh, you're fine," he said, grabbing your jaw, and kissing you on the forehead once again.

You loved when he kissed you anywhere, but you loved forehead kisses and steamy make-out sessions. Finnick made you feel like the only girl in the world, the only one he lusted and loved for.

He pulled you the rest of the way to his house, pulling his keys out of his dress pants pocket to unlock the door.

He pushed open the door, flipping on the light switch and leading you directly to his cozy living room, the simple chandelier casting a warm beige glow over the room.

You fell face first into the denim colored velvet couch, rubbing your hands into the soft fabric and releasing a heavy exhale in relief. You felt the couch dip beside your legs, and the zipper on the back of your dress loosened, slowly being undone.

"Can I take your shoes off for you, love?" he asked, his hand now rested on your back at the bottom of your zipper.

You kicked your feet up onto his lap, and exhaled once again, getting comfy as he helped you undress. He had no problem undoing your heel buckles and pulling them off, dropping them onto the ground.

You heard Finnick take a long inhale, running the hand that rested on your back along your spine and onto the back of your neck. He leaned down, laying halfway on the side of the couch.

Gently tucking his face into your neck, he gave you a few pecks on the empty spaces his hand didn't cover.

"Finnick," you exhaled into the couch, lifting a hand to place on his thick bicep. He paused his kisses, listening to your quiet breathing get faster.

"Something wrong, my love?" he asked, murmuring into your neck. Licking a spot on your neck and biting it softly, he pushed a gasp out of your throat.

"Didn't think so."

You squeezed his arm once more, tingles and swirling heat building in your stomach as he kissed you more, leaving small bruises along your neck the more he bit.

"Can we try something new tonight?" he asked quietly, face still buried into your neck and hand wrapped around the back of your neck, controlling where your head moved if you even tried to move it.

He had as much as fingered you before, and you two often made out. You had never experienced full sex with him, but you were eager to if he offered.

"I'd have no problem with that," you said, your stomach now a whirling tornado of heat and butterflies the more he spoke. Your throat was constricting from both his hand and the anticipation, nervous to try something so new with him.

He erected himself once again, sitting up straight on the couch and dragging his hands around your hips. Squeezing your waist, he pulled at your hips to have you sit up for him.

You picked yourself up, adjusting yourself to face him.

Your cheeks were hot from laying face down, but also because of the way he admired you, his eyes darting around your body as he took in your image with a sharp inhale.

"Come here, pretty girl," he cooed, undoing the belt that held up his dress pants, watching your expression like a hawk as you stared in awe at his seemingly perfect and precise movements.

Your cheeks began to burn bright red as you watched him pull the belt from the belt loops and undo the button around his waist, your stomach swirling aggressively with heat and arousal as he watched you.

He left the button open, pushing the fabric to the side and revealing a set of black boxers and readjusting his hips to sit away from the couch cushion, manspreading, as he grabbed for your hips to pull you on top of him.

You scooted toward him, allowing him to grab you by the hips and pull you on top of his lap, immediately pressing his lips to yours.

This would be the only time you were taller than him, and the way his warm, plump lips guided and pushed against yours erupted a volcano of butterflies. Your thighs were bare against his legs, the soft fabric of his pants warm and inviting.

Your dress was loose against your back, the thin straps beginning to fall down your shoulders ever so slightly, the hem of the dress riding up your legs the more you kissed him, his hands tightly gripped onto your hips.

Finnick was focused on making you feel the best he could, trailing his lips down your jaw and throat, kissing dangerously low on your collarbone and chest.

When he pulled away, you met his eyes, looking down at him for the first time in your life. They were darkened with lust and desire, his mouth curling up on the sides as he watched the redness of your face deepen, your eyes darkening with the same lust, plagued with need.

He looked down, a small breathy laugh falling out of his lips. He moved his face toward your chest, his hands slowly moving up your hips to place his hands over your breasts.

He kissed around your breasts, sometimes licking a small spot before biting it until he dropped his hands onto your hips again.

Moving his face up your neck to rest his lips against your ear, he whispered.

"You ready, love?"

You exhaled quietly, nodding as he adjusted his pants once again, pulling down his boxers.

It sort of sprung up against his stomach, a perfect length with girth, a few prominent small veins running up to a glistening dark pink head.

Your face was the color of a ripe tomato, watching as he stroked himself once or twice, grabbing your hips and looking up to you once again.

You lifted yourself up, preparing for him to sit you himself.

As he adjusted to sit you on him, the entrance of his dick for the first time sent electrifying butterflies through your body, a light moan pushing past your lips as he sat you all the way down with ease, your thighs once again meeting his dress pants.

He grabbed for your ass, squeezing gently as he began to rock you back and forth, hitting the perfect spot to send butterflies and heat coursing through your body.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned, throwing his head back, gripping your ass tighter as he forced himself to move your hips at the same pace.

Small moans and whimpers released from your throat every time he rocked you, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his head into your chest as you gripped the back of his shirt.

He began to move you faster, his fingers digging into your ass to leave a definite mark on you the next morning.

"You feel so good," he praised, his moans breathy and deep, heat building quickly in your stomach as he moved your hips faster.

He shook your arms loose a bit to kiss your neck once again, biting harsher than before, licking the spots when you'd gasp. You'd push your head down to kiss him, moans and whimpers threatening to break the kiss when he'd thrust just right, the friction between your thighs and his pants growing hot. Your straps had fallen down your shoulders now, your breasts barely covered by a strip of fabric with Finnick's face buried by your neck.

The fact he was fully clothed while you were practically falling naked in front of him was oddly arousing, the idea of him watching you strip from his thrusts made your face hot. The darkened light of the living room and the occasional creak of the old couch left the room in a steamy sensation, the rest of the house black with empty light while nothing mattered to Finnick, just you feeling good.

This was the best thing he'd ever treated you to, his perfect dick sliding in and out of you with no effort, the kisses and nips he'd leave at your neck to mark you as his. The muffled sound of skin slapping as pants met bare thigh, the jingle of the metal buckle that laid to the side.

"Come on, I know you're close, baby."

You felt the rush of an upcoming orgasm as he plead for you, his hands grew impossibly tighter on you, practically slamming you onto his cock as your body erupted in butterflies.

"Cum for me, pretty girl."

White hot heat burst through your body, loud moans and cusses falling from your lips as he worked you through your orgasm, the butterflies and searing pleasure overtaking your body as you collapsed against his chest, your head falling to his shoulder.

Deep moans erupted from his mouth as he worked himself through his own orgasm moments later, slowing you to a halt, his hands leaving your ass to caress your body.

"You're such a good girl," he cooed once again, kissing your neck and pulling you up from his body to look at him.

His smile was soft and genuine, your body exhausted from the best thing you'd ever felt.

"Let's get you cleaned up, darling," he whispered, pulling you off of his lap to place you down against a pillow off to the side.

He stood up, buttoning his pants once again and leaving the room for a few minutes.

You'd heard various lights switch on and off, listening to the softness of his footsteps around the house.

Finnick came back with a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old tee of his, a wet towel, and a small box of cookies and water from the pantry.

Helping you up, he wiped you down with the towel, helping you take off your dress and replace it with the pajamas and tee. He sat you back down against the cushion, turning around to grab the cookies.

"The best for last," he smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly as he set the cookies and water on the table in front of you, turning on the tv to a show you'd never seen before, the volume barely up.

As you took a cookie, he laid down next to you and placed your head on his lap, relaxing as you combed your fingers through his hair, the sound of the tv and the quietness of his breath soon lulling you to sleep.

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[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 12

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 5,700

Tags/Warnings: Violence and peril, angst central, a touch of PTSD, and a surprise ending… 

Part 12: All Your Wicked Ways

Something was wrong. 

It was a gut instinct, but yours was far too often right. 

Ben had been sleeping for a long time. After he’d fallen asleep yesterday, you did shortly after from the combination of fatigue, pain from your broken ribs, and the painkillers in your system. 

But even after your keepers had woken you with a tray of food, Ben still hadn’t woken up.

“Ben?” you tried calling to him, but he didn’t rouse from where he laid in his cot, one arm pillowed behind his head and the other across his stomach.

You got up, your pain making you slow as you made sounds of struggle. 

You went to the large window and supported yourself with your hands on the glass. You called his name again, louder.

His face scrunched a little, but your voice couldn’t penetrate the Novichok haze—the poison being pumped into his cell to dull his senses and keep him too drowsy to function.

You paused as you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. It turned out to be several, in fact, as a team of Vought security guards came to your cell. 

“What’s going on?” you asked. No one answered you as they grabbed and handcuffed you with your arms in front of you. You struggled, but you didn’t have the strength or energy to give much of a fight. 

They wheeled in what looked like a large metal casket. You had only seen one of these in pictures, but it had to be a cryochamber. 

A doctor in her mid-fifties accompanied them, giving directions on how to safely enter Ben’s cell. Your eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shouted. Panic trilled down your spine as the guards fitted themselves with special suits and gas masks. The doctor turned toward you as the guards led you out of your cell and into the hall.

“You’re being transported,” she informed you. 

“Where?”

“To a lab with better security.”

“Why? Where’s my father? I know that bastard’s still alive,” you demanded, but it seemed you weren’t interesting enough for the doctor. 

You spied her last name, Baker, embroidered above the breast pocket her lab coat. You finally recognized Dr. Tonya Baker; you hadn’t worked with her much during your time at Vought, but you knew her by reputation.

Your heart fell into your stomach. 

You struggled against the stern grip of the guard holding you and shouted, “Ben, wake up!”

Between your voice and the commotion outside his door, he started to rouse.

“Get her out of here,” said Dr. Baker. 

Your guards tried to drag you, but you dug your heels in and made it as difficult as possible. Meanwhile, Ben could hear you—when you called his name and now, while you were struggling. He finally drew enough energy and strength to open his eyes and sit up in the cot. 

Once he saw you being manhandled against your will, his fury sparked. 

“Hey!” he barked. He managed to rise off his cot and draw himself to his feet. The first door of his cell slid open for the guards in their hazmat suits. Once that closed, the second one disengaged, and they came pouring in. 

Ben fought them. He managed to punch the first one into the far wall, shaking the fortified glass. He snapped the second man’s neck and broke a leg on the third, but they just kept coming in batches of three or four. The room was misty as hell, slowing Ben’s stamina, and he gritted his teeth in frustration. 

Their strength was in numbers, and gradually, they were able to latch onto his arms, kick behind his knees to bring him down to the ground.

He saw the mask coming towards his face, and the well of panic, hearing your distressed yelling of his name—it gave him the strength to break the chain of men holding him down. 

That’s when he noticed the star bolts zipping outside his cell. 

You were still fighting against the guard’s hold. You ripped back his sleeve and bit into the man’s wrist, eliciting a yell of pain. His grip eased up enough for you to steal his secondary gun on his belt, and despite your cuffed wrists, you shot him in the leg twice to bring him down. 

You raised the gun at your next attacker—Frenchie, who raised up his hands in friendly surrender. 

“Cherie! It’s surprising to see you alive,” he said. You grinned.

“A good surprise?” you asked, and you shot another guard approaching from behind him. 

Frenchie flinched slightly, but after he watched the man fall to the ground, screaming and clutching between his legs, Frenchie’s lips raised in a more genuine smile. 

“Yes, I think so,” he teased. 

You looked past him and watched as Kimiko, M.M., Annie, Hughie, and Butcher took out the rest of the guards. You didn’t see Dr. Baker anywhere; in all likelihood, she’d fled the scene when she saw her opportunity. 

Ben still remained in his cell, and you went to the glass window. He looked all right as he met your gaze, but there were about ten bodies lying around him. His face was firm and assessing. Still, you read the uncertainty behind it.  

You sighed and turned to your team. “Hey, guys. Good to see you.”

Annie went to you first, grasping your shoulders. Her large eyes peered into yours.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Well, more or less,” was your weary reply. Your ribs were throbbing, but you raised your cuffed hands. “Think you can help me with these?”

Annie raised a hand over your cuffs and concentrated her powers into melting them, just enough for Kimiko to strike through them. You slid off the remaining metal pieces and rubbed your stinging wrists. 

“All right, let’s get a fucking move on,” said Butcher.

“Hello to you too,” you replied, raising a brow. 

“Oh, just you wait. You’ve got plenty of fucking explaining to do,” he said, leveling a finger at you. He slid it over to Ben, who watched him right back. 

“Ello, gov.” Butcher smirked. “Look at you, all gift-wrapped for us.”

He turned to M.M., who approached with an especially terrifying-looking gas mask. Your eyes widened. 

“Ready?” Butcher asked him. 

“Ready to knock this motherfucker out and bring him into custody,” M.M. grimly agreed. 

“Wait,” you said, stepping past Annie to get between M.M. and Butcher. 

With your back to the glass, you didn’t see how Ben’s eyes followed you. They hid a thread of uncertainty. He had a feeling you might do this, but he didn’t know what to expect from your team. 

“It doesn’t have to go down like this,” you told them. “He took out Homelander. He could help us bring down Vought. This fucking tower, the whole thing.”

“Is that why you ran at the airport?” M.M. asked. Then he shook his head. “Never mind. We don’t have time to debate this.”

You held out a halting hand. “Look, clearly they're not done making supes if they brought back a new and improved Black Noir. Now they’re selling V24 to the military. They need to be stopped, and with our help, Ben could do it.”

“Oh, it’s Ben now, is it?” Butcher stared at you shrewdly, then at Ben himself. The latter just tilted his head, his mouth quirking with an edge of cockiness. 

Butcher raised a brow. His gaze returned to you, noting the way you stood your ground, but pursed your lips. You were hiding something…a guilty conscience, perhaps. 

“Bloody hell. You two’ve been fucking,” he realized. 

Shocked silence spread through the rest of the team. 

Your embarrassment radiated off your flushing cheeks, and it took everything within you to resist looking back at Ben. You didn’t want to see what kind of expression he wore, but you could guess.

“No,” Annie regarded you with shock. 

“Seriously?” Hughie remarked in a high voice. 

“That’s…well, that’s none of your goddamn business, is it?” you tried to be stern, but your embarrassed shuffling made it lose some of its effect.

Kimiko shared raised brows with Frenchie, who just looked amused. M.M., on the other hand, grimaced with disgust. That actually stung, but you crossed your arms. You didn’t have a good answer for them. Not one you wanted to say in front of Ben, anyway.

“I think we can come to an agreement here,” Ben said at last. 

You turned around, and he gained the attention of the others as well. He briefly met your gaze before he shifted to Butcher. 

“Worked for us once, before you tried to double-cross me,” Ben said. 

“You want to take out Vought.” Butcher glanced at their surroundings, specifically Ben’s cell. He gave a snort of amusement. “I could understand that.”

“Butcher,” M.M. said sharply. 

“We–we should probably get out of here now,” Hughie pointed out. He looked back down the hall nervously. You agreed with him; any moment now, more guards could be coming. 

“Think about it,” said Ben. “The only way you’re getting that mask on me is with a fight. One you’ll probably lose, fucking miserably. We can have the same deal as before, no strings. Until Stan Edgar and Noir are dead.”

It took Butcher all of seconds. 

He turned to Frenchie and said, “Open her up.”

“Butcher, what the fuck!” M.M. argued. 

“What do you fucking want from me, eh? Their special ops security will be all over us soon,” Butcher said. 

But he shared a meaningful look with the other man that you didn’t miss. It sparked your suspicion.

You stepped back as the first door unlocked after Frenchie hacked the commands. Then the gas misting up the cell receded.

There was an immediate reaction from Ben. He blinked in relief as he started to breathe easy. The brain fog making it almost impossible for him to stay alert slowly ebbed. 

He took one step into the hall before it happened—all in a rush, but not unexpected. He blocked M.M.’s punch and tossed him across the hall. 

Someone jumped on his back. He heard you shout, but before he could rip off the hanger on, Kimiko slipped the mask over his face and deployed a heavy dose of nerve gas. It was enough to drop him to his knees as his eyes rolled back into his head. 

Lights out. 

On the way to Supe Affairs, you weren’t happy, but there wasn’t much you could do. 

You were still in your Vought-issued gray pajamas, bare footed as you rode along with your friends in Frenchie’s van. In the very back was the haul of Ben, laid to rest in a chamber keeping him sedated. 

You had to explain to the rest of them that your father, Jonathan, was Stan Edgar’s Chief of Security. You were a cog in Vought’s wheel once upon a time, but joining the S.A. helped you escape. Ben offered you a way to achieve what you couldn’t at the S.A.—taking it all down.

Still, M.M. looked at you like he didn’t even know you. 

“How do you explain fucking him?” he asked.

You shot him a tight frown.

“First of all, none of you know what the hell I went through,” you said. “At first, I was just trying to learn how to read him. How to survive and somehow get back home.”

Emotion clogged in your throat when you thought of seeing your sister again soon, and your mom. You thought of all you had gone through in past two months, and knew that it had changed you…

For better or worse, you didn’t yet know for sure. 

“But for all his arrogance, his chauvinism, his massive ego and general bastardry, there’s still humanity in Ben,” you said, looking up at your team. You thought they had become your friends…but you supposed you would see. 

“Why else would he save me?” you said. 

They didn’t answer. You turned your head to Annie, but even she didn’t look convinced. Though you could see she wanted to be on your side, it was difficult for her to reconcile her own feelings about Soldier Boy. You certainly understood that. 

“He’s too powerful to kill,” you also pointed out. “Putting him to sleep like this will just make it worse when he wakes up…but if he’s properly motivated, he could do some good.” 

“Or off anyone who looks at him sideways,” Butcher wryly replied. “He’s dickmatized you, love.” 

You could tell the others sided with him on this. 

“You can disagree with me,” you said, “but do you have a better way to kill Noir and take down Vought?”

At the S.A., you were able to shower and get on proper clothes in a black tracksuit and some sneakers. You weren’t allowed to find out where they’d taken Ben yet, but Grace Mallory oversaw the transport, just as she called you into her office for your immediate debriefing.  

It felt more like an interrogation, not unlike the one you underwent to be recruited for the manhunt of Soldier Boy.

You felt like a different person sitting across from her. This time you sat up tall, not intimidated by the ice blue stare that greeted you. The lines in the older woman’s face were drawn, but there was an unyielding wall within the woman that you could admire. 

It just didn’t change the fact that right now, she was your opponent. And the chess game had begun.

“You went way off-road with this assignment,” she said at last. You raised a brow. 

“I’m sorry my kidnapping inconvenienced you,” you remarked. 

“Don’t be cute. You know what the hell I’m talking about,” Grace said. “At this point, I’m debating whether to bring you into custody along with Soldier Boy.”

“I’m the one who got him back to the States,” you pointed out, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed. “I had to get in contact with my father to make that happen. Do you know what that cost me?” 

You resisted an uncomfortable shudder. They’d given you more painkillers for your ribs, but it wasn’t enough the relieve the damage of that encounter. Not to your mind. 

“Aside from any other self-debasing tactics I used in order to do my job, not to mention save my own life. Without me, and the sacrifices I made, Soldier Boy wouldn’t be in a cell downstairs,” you finished. 

Saying those words stung. Like you were somehow betraying yourself. 

“That doesn’t fool me,” Grace said. In fact, her shrewd gaze was much like Butcher’s. It saw straight through you as she tilted her head in wonder. “You care about him.” 

Your lips tightened. 

After a moment, you answered.

“He was tortured for forty years,” you said. “Whether he admits it or not, he’s got scars just like the rest of us…but more importantly to you, he can help us take down Vought once and for all.” 

Grace considered you with a shifting light. “I didn’t think that mattered to you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you retorted. “But make no mistake. You will pay me what you owe me for this mission. If you think you’re going to welch on your end of the deal, then I’m about to be your long-term problem.” 

Grace huffed in wry amusement. 

“I have a feeling you will be, regardless,” she said. 

“And to that end, I will be checking in on Ben,” you replied. “He’s a person, not a weapon or a lab rat.” 

“Mind yourself, young lady,” Grace snapped, her eyes narrowing. “I admire your sense of loyalty, but in this case, it’s misplaced. That man is a bastard and a murderer, with a devastating power he can’t hope to control. And you, frankly, don’t have any standing to make demands.” 

“And what’s your body count, agent?” you challenged. “Have they all been sanctioned kills?”

When she didn’t answer, merely staring back at you, you stood up.

“You’re right, he can’t control it. Yet. Maybe that’s something productive you can get your damn scientists on,” you said. 

And before you left, you added one more thing. 

“I may not have your security clearance, your power, or your money,” you said. “But I’ve got a big fucking mouth. So unless you want me to use it, my clearance now includes seeing Ben.” 

Grace stared back at you for a moment. 

Her nails tapped on her desk as she assessed you. 

Releasing a long sigh through her nose, she relented. A little. 

“Fine,” she said. “If you can convince him to ally with us on the Vought issue, I’ll allow you to see him.” 

You nodded. For all that Grace hated Soldier Boy, she was a practical woman. She saw the same opportunity you did, and was willing to take advantage of it…even if you both knew that convincing Ben to play ball would be damn near impossible. 

In fact, this would probably be your biggest challenge yet. But this, you were willing to fight for. 

“I can start tomorrow,” you said.  

It seemed that Vought and the CIA had been thinking similarly on how to confine Soldier Boy. 

You spent one strange night back in your musty apartment before you returned to the S.A., bright and early, so that Grace could lead you to a lab below the main building. It was dark and made of pure concrete, encased in titanium. 

In it was a state-of-the-art cell with three metal walls that had to disengage before you could reach the inner room. Inside those four corners of fortified, bullet-proof glass were scarce furnishings. Ben himself was strapped to a bed, with a mask held over his face. 

At least he was out of the coffin, but it was difficult for you to watch, even as the scientists and guards unstrapped him and left the cell. The mask disengaged from his face, allowing him to breathe real air as he started to wake. But gas flooded into the compartment, not unlike Vought’s setup. 

You and Grace stood outside the glass. She glanced at you with sharp nod. Then she left you alone. 

Well, relatively speaking. There were guards posted at the entrance of the three walls behind you, controlling who got in and out of the cell area. 

Once all the walls were back in place after Grace’s departure, you let out a shaky breath and stepped forward with the plate of food you brought, along with a few bottles of water.

Ben was moving off the bed, trying and failing to clear his head as he took in his surroundings with a furious glare. It only dimmed slightly when he realized you were there. 

He made his way toward you, and you pressed a button that would allow you to safely pass his meal to him without letting any nerve gas escape the inner cell. Ben removed the lid from the plate, inspected the chicken and vegetables with an unreadable expression.

Then, with a burst of force, he took the plate and tossed it as hard as he could into one of the glass walls. 

You flinched. But by the time he looked back at you, you’d schooled your expression, merely raising a brow. 

“That was real fucking mature.” 

“Suck on my balls, sweetheart,” he retorted. He cocked his head to the side.  “Oh wait, you did. Last Tuesday.” 

You glared at him with a hot blush spreading across your face. That was not, in fact, last Tuesday. But you didn’t rise to his bait.

“Are you really willing to partner with the S.A. to take down Vought? Or was that just you bluffing?” you asked. 

Ben started to pace in irritation. You knew he was upset, and itching for revenge on anyone that would dare confine him again. You could guess what being in a cell was already doing to his mental state. 

Which was why you were here, desperately trying to help him.

“Really, would you rather be hunted all your life, or would you rather just play ball here?” you tried to reason. “Become a real ally with the S.A. Show Mallory that you can operate within the law.”

Ben looked up from his pacing just to glare at you.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to with all these demands, huh?” 

“You, Ben. I’m talking to you!” 

He ignored you, resuming his pacing. “I’m a solo act for a damn reason.”

Oh really? you wanted to say. That’s why he needed your help to try and get to Stan.

“That got you here, now didn’t it?” you asked. 

He didn’t answer. It made you think you weren’t going to get anywhere with him today. Maybe he needed some time to cool off.

You sighed and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“You’re just going to leave me in here?” he asked in disbelief. And you thought you could read a throughline of hurt behind his eyes. “I saved you…shit, I’ve lost count how many times now. And still, you fucking betrayed me.”

“Don’t you do that,” you warned. Though you felt a prickle of guilt run down your spine. “You know very well what got you here. I tried to stop it. And I’m the only one who’s on your side right now.”

“Doesn’t fucking look like it from where I’m standing.”  

You sighed in frustration. “I’ll tell you the truth, I don’t want to leave you in here. But if I can’t trust you, they never will.” 

“I don’t know what delusions you have about me,” he said, coming closer. 

“But when I get out of here, I’m slaughtering anyone who gets in my way!” he shouted savagely. 

He banged his fists into the glass so hard that it trembled, making you flinch with a gasp. A more concentrated fog smoked up the cell. Ben coughed and cursed as he stumbled back, and eventually, he fell unconscious right there on the floor. 

You watched in dismay. Despite his rage, it still hurt you to see him like this. Like a caged animal. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced yourself to leave the cell before the cameras caught them. You knew Grace would be monitoring this exchange later. 

She would probably feel vindicated at what she saw. 

The thought disgusted you as the outer walls parted, allowing you to leave. M.M. was waiting for you at the exit. He’d seen the entire thing through a monitor at the control desk, where two guards sat eating their lunch. 

“You want to protect that piece of shit?” M.M. said, jerking a thumb towards the cell. “That’s what he really is. And he clearly don’t give a fuck about you.” 

Your jaw tightened. 

“I’m not going to justify my actions to you, M.M. I know what he’s done, especially to you," you said. "But he didn’t just let me live. He protected me, saved me, more than once. From his own men even. And…he was kind to me, in his own way. I have to think that counts for something.” 

M.M. shook his head at you in disbelief.

“Maybe he went soft for a pretty girl, but that doesn’t mean he ain’t a monster,” he said. 

“That’s not all there is to him,” you said. “You didn’t see it, M.M.”

The other man watched you for a moment, before he let out a deep sigh. 

“You actually think he can be saved,” he said. 

“Maybe,” you said. “We’ll see.” 

He crossed his arms. You understood how he felt, but you couldn’t deny what your instincts told you about Ben…and your heart as well. 

“He’s right about one thing,” M.M. said. “You are delusional.”

A few days went by as the team went back to work at the S.A. as usual. But your days during your first week home became marked by your strenuous visits to Ben.

Once again, he’d rather pace than look at you. You had a feeling it helped him stay awake.

“I fought for my country,” he groused. “I don’t fucking deserve this.”

“Oh, would you stop lying?” you said in annoyance. “You’ve only ever fought for yourself. You didn’t even fight in World War II! You’ve never been a soldier. And unless you get a fucking clue, you’re going to continue being the massive man-child your father saw in you.”

Maybe it wasn’t kind, but you were fed up with his stubbornness. You turned to leave. 

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me!” Ben shouted. 

You raised a brow, and you turned on your heel. The man was livid, standing in the center of his cell.

“Or what?” you challenged. 

But you soon relented at the way he withdrew–into himself. 

You had checked the monitors before you came in; he was trying not to sleep, wasn’t letting his body rest. This place was like an open wound: complete wall-to-wall glass, no privacy, nowhere to go, and nothing to do. He couldn’t distract himself with drugs, or TV, or good food, or even good sex and conversation. 

This was terrible for him, and you knew it. 

“Ben, I want to help you,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. You laid a hand on the glass. “Let me help you.”

His gaze was angry and unyielding. 

“There’s only one way you can help me,” he said. “But you won’t fucking do it.”

The team was giving you a wide berth. Even Annie greeted you in the office with more politeness than warmth. 

Above all else, you remained professional, but it was a simple fact that your team was no longer your team. They didn’t trust you, or your judgment. And you refused to show how deeply that hurt you. 

However, until you all got a breakthrough on taking down Vought and Noir, there was still work to be done. So you fell into step back in with the Surveillance team.

That meant taking your place as second-in-command to your manager, as well as returning to your cubicle next to your coworker Jess. She hugged you when she saw you, even shed tears. 

You’d hugged her a bit awkwardly, but you were touched. You hadn’t thought she cared about you that much. 

She told you that the entire Surveillance department had been worried about you. That they’d missed you, especially your calm, supportive leadership. (Apparently your manager had been stressed handling the entire department without you.)

That at least buoyed you throughout the rest of the week. 

When you returned home on Thursday, however, you received an unexpected call. But when you saw the caller ID, you inwardly kicked yourself before you answered. 

“Louisa?”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” came your sister’s sharp voice. 

So many things, you thought with a weary sigh. You held your phone to your ear while you tried to find something to cook for dinner in your pantry. All you found was a box of spaghetti…which dragged up bittersweet memories you’d rather not think about. 

“I meant to call you as soon as I got back,” you tried to explain. “But I’ve been in full debrief mode. It’s been a circus since I got back, Lou.”

You slammed the pantry shut and went for the frozen dinner in the freezer.

“I don’t care. I didn’t hear from you for almost two straight months…” 

You knew the S.A. hadn’t told her anything about your kidnapping, but you knew she had to have been worrying when you didn’t check in at all after that first time in Medellin. The sound of her emotion-choked voice made your own eyes sting. 

“I’m sorry, Lou. I’ll come visit you this weekend, okay? I’m still taking care of some things at work.” Namely a grumpy supe on lockdown. “How’s school?”

“School is fine!” she snapped. You heard her take a breath, presumably to calm herself. She had a bit of a temper, just like you, but your sister managed herself much better than you. You supposed being more well-adjusted had its perks.

“Mom was worried too, but I kept her calm. Focused on work,” she said. 

“I appreciate that. Thanks,” you replied. You knew you had to call your mom soon as well. Maybe you’d stop in on her after your sister. 

“I better see you this weekend,” she grumbled. You smiled. 

“Love you too,” you said.

“Love you…okay, I’ll let you go for now. But don’t forget!”

Once you said goodbye and hung up, you held the phone to your chest and heaved another sigh. You were exhausted, really. Sleep hadn’t been coming easy to you ever since you got back. But you knew it was nothing compared to what Ben was going through.

Which was why you visited him every day.

The next morning, you made your pitstop to the “cellar,” as you’d been calling it in your mind.

You’d brought whatever Grace allowed you to give him, like books and magazines, and an old iPod to listen to music on, but he mostly ignored you.

This time, however, he seemed in a different mood as you sat in a plastic fold out chair and ate your breakfast with him, on your side of the cell of course. You took another bite of your blueberry muffin while he pushed aside his bland-looking eggs. 

“So, how much did you get paid?” he asked. His tone was nonchalant, but his gaze was accusing. You let out a breath and looked up at him. 

“Enough to put my sister through college and pay off my mom’s debts,” you told him. “I took this job for my family, Ben.”

His finger tapped on his arm, but he didn’t relent. “Selling out is selling out.”

Wow. He really had the nerve to compare you to the way his team sold him out.

You’d tried to be nice. You really did. But he could be such a massive pain in the ass.

“You don’t seem to understand just how much shit I’m in for trying to help you right now,” you said. 

Ben mustered up some strength and got up from his cot. He drew near to you, crossing his arms.

“If this is your idea of doing me a fucking favor, then I don’t need it,” he said angrily. “I don’t need a naive little girl like you to help me do jack shit.”

You set down your muffin and stood to your feet, matching his glare. 

“Like you didn’t need my help to get into Vought Tower?” you pointed out, satisfied by the way he piped down. Silently simmering. 

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be awake right now,” you added. “You’d be back in an ice coffin.”

And that could still happen if you couldn’t convince him to cooperate with Supe Affairs.

“Fuck off,” he snapped. “And fuck you.”

Oh really? You frowned. At this point, you wanted to slap him. It seemed to be his sheer stubbornness and ego that was keeping him from his own freedom, and that, you just couldn't tolerate.

“You know what?” you said, grabbing your muffin and your fold-up chair. “Suck my dick, Ben. When you’re ready to talk to me like a human being, tap on the glass.”

You left him behind to do your real job, and this time, you didn’t let him halt your steps.

You’d scarcely entered your apartment that evening, when a shadow on the living room sofa gave you a small heart attack. 

You flipped on the lights and found your younger sister, arms crossed with a raised brow. On the coffee table in front of her was a glass of soda. It looked like she’d made herself comfortable while waiting for you.  

“Louisa! What are you doing here?” you exclaimed, with a hand on your chest. “Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?”

“I heard you coming up those rickety stairs and thought I’d pay you back for disappearing in South America,” she said. 

But soon enough, wide grins took over both of your faces. 

You pulled her into a big, warm hug. Tears burned in your eyes, and one or two slid down your cheeks as you tried to get ahold of yourself. 

“I missed you so much,” you confessed. You were just slightly taller than her, able to comfortably pet her hair and press a kiss to her cheek. Louisa was just as emotional, her pretty eyes filled with happy tears. 

She was about to speak when the glass on the coffee table suddenly shattered. 

You both flinched, and your sister gasped. You held onto her shoulders tighter, more protective as you assessed the room. You listened closely. 

A shot rang out, but it hit the wall beside your head. You moved at the last moment and narrowly avoided the third shot that would’ve struck you between the eyes. 

“Get down!” you yelled, forcing your sister to crouch along with you and move across the living room. 

Bullets tore with a vengeance through the windows, crashing into vases, picture frames, shattering the surface glass of the wooden coffee table, and ripping into the sofa until its internal fluff rose into the air like cotton confetti.

You protected Louisa’s head as you both took shelter behind the sofa. 

“What’s happening?” she shouted over the cacophony, but you didn’t have an answer for her yet. 

Your front door burst open and shattered the lock. You tensed, looking for where you stashed the spare gun you kept at home. The S.A. hadn’t gotten around to issuing you a new glock yet.

Heavy boots came through your apartment. You grabbed a piece of broken glass and told Louisa to stay down.

But when you stood and met your attacker, he was nearly three times your size. He grabbed your wrist in a firm, but not painful hold. He pulled his black ski mask down with a hand and revealed a familiar face. 

Your eyes widened, your mouth gaping in shock. 

“Frank?”

AN: 😏 Did I get'cha? Did I? Let me know in the comments. 😂

Next Time:

“Wait, wait. You’re not getting out of this.” Louisa leaned over and grabbed your hand. “What’s the deal with you and Soldier Boy? I thought the whole point of your mission was to capture him.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. 

“I was on the job, things went sideways, I got captured, and things got…complicated.” 

Frank huffed. “I think the kids are calling it Frenemies with Benefits.” 

Keep Reading: PART 13

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[cuubism]

@prismaluv I promised an actual eon ago that I would write something for Dream and Desire, and here it is, though I fear I haven't landed exactly where you were aiming for...

--

It has come to Dream’s attention that something is… wrong… in the Threshold.

It is not usually for him to take note of his siblings’ affairs. Particularly when said sibling is Desire. He would sooner let them wallow; perhaps it would teach them a lesson. But the malady, or irritation or scheme or whatever it may be is now seeping into the Dreaming, and so Dream must determine if it is intentional or not and what, depending on the answer, he must do about it.

The Threshold naturally shares a border with the Dreaming, for, to Dream’s chagrin, dreams and desires do find common or contested ground in love and ambition and other feelings besides. And those desirous dreams have been sickened. Corrupted. Dreamers see their lovers’ ravening maws and wake nauseous from what should have been visions of lovemaking; children’s songs curdle mockingly in their ears as light expands beyond joy beyond pain beyond burning. These dreams are not serving their purpose and Dream must put a stop to it.

“Sibling,” he calls, and receives no reply, but the Threshold allows him in, when he steps from the border of his realm into Desire’s.

The long pathways of Desire’s body are empty as ever. A mockery of blood vessels pumping nothing. Dream walks the known paths, alert in the silence, past the lungs with no breath, to the heart with no beating.

He steps into the curving chambers of that heart, the center of Desire’s power in the Threshold. His steps echo on the hard walls.

“Mmm,” comes Desire’s voice, slurred with malaise, echoing from deeper within, “come to gloat, have you, brother?”

“I have come to determine your purpose in poisoning my realm,” Dream says, following their voice. “I warned you not to toy with me again.”

Desire lets out a disgusted sigh. “Not everything I do is about you.”

“Recent events would suggest otherwise.” Dream finally reaches the central atrium of the Threshold’s heart. Desire is sprawled out on a chaise lounge, head pillowed on their arm. Their eyes are closed, their clothes wrinkled and ill-fitting, their hair lank. They appear to be wearing Despair’s ripped and stained jumper. Dream frowns.

“Go awayyyyy,” Desire complains. “Leave me to my misery.”

“What afflicts you?” Dream asks, standing over them. “Or are you simply experiencing remorse for your crimes, at long last?”

“‘Afflicts’,” Desire mutters, mockingly. “I am being persecuted and abused. Abandoned. Wasting away in apathy.”

Dream sits delicately on the arm of a chair by their side. If there truly is something wrong, and Desire is not just being melodramatic, or trying to annoy him, then they must take action. He will not allow the Dreaming to be harmed. “I fail to see how it could be persecution and abandonment at once.”

“Have you not seen them, Dream?” Desire complains, finally cracking one bleary golden eye open to look up at him.

“Seen whom?” Dream asks, with what he thinks is admirable patience.

“The people! Nobody wants anything. Not in a way that matters. Oh, it’s too easy. It’s too easy to take shortcuts. They don’t understand desire anymore.” Desire clutches their heart dramatically.

“I have not the faintest clue what you are talking about,” Dream says.

“I am a starving and bottomless mouth,” Desire tells him, looking up at him with both shining eyes now. “See, my teeth.” They bare their teeth at him. Their incisors are very sharp.

“I am aware of this.”

“And they think they can feed me with tiny little candies like a yapping chihuahua that’ll finally shut up. They’re poisoning me. They’re starving me. They’re glutting themselves on whatever makes the brain chemmies go weeweeweeweewoo for a second and look— look.” They drag down the hem of Despair’s jumper, peel back a layer of skin. Under it is not flesh, nor blood, but void, an expanding, hungry, agonized void. Dream stares into it, alarmed.

Desire lets their ‘skin’ snap back into place. “What does it even mean, Dream?” they ask rhetorically. “Nothing. It is all fleeting. Nothing deep about it. No one yearns, Dream. No one YEARNS!”

This is said in a despairing wail. Cautiously, Dream pets their hair.

“You crave deep and abiding wants and there is a glut of trivialities and distractions,” he summarizes, and they nod, teary. “Would it appease you if I removed all memory of mobile phones from the face of the earth?”

It doesn’t appease them, but it does make them laugh. Desire laughs, choked and teary, clutching at his hand. “God, I forgot that you’re actually funny when you’re not trying to be.”

It is strange, after all that has transpired, to have what could be considered a civil conversation. Dream still does not forgive them for anything they have done, and perhaps never will, but he sees, for a moment, a much younger year, when they were, in a fashion, friends.

“Many deep desires live in dreams now, for they have little hope of fulfillment,” he says. “But these small morsels, candies as you say, these are not dreamt of, except perhaps in nightmares of eternal wasting. It is still what dwells deepest in the heart that drives dreaming.”

“Are you trying to tell me that I matter?” Desire bites, and Dream simply says—

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Desire seems genuinely disturbed; perhaps they really did think he came to revel in their misery. Perhaps Dream did. But one of his siblings struggling in their duty can only have ill effects on his dreamers, and on their waking selves besides. Dream would be incredibly remiss in not addressing it. Or so he tells himself is his reasoning.

“I do believe there are still fierce desires in this world, though perhaps they have become buried. Usurped,” he says. “Disconnected from the body which is, as I understand it, their rightful home. Though addressing this is not something with which I can aid you.”

The body of living creatures is far outside Dream’s purview, and not something he well understands, except as it manifests in dreams—of hope of change, of twisted horror, of curling heat. And even then, it is far from him.

“I can’t believe you’re giving me advice and it’s not just telling me to go fuck myself,” Desire says faintly. Dream begins to protest, but they continue, “Not that you’d ever use those words, Your Highness.”

“It serves no one if one of our realms is in disarray,” says Dream, and if there is a sharp point to it, a reminder of exactly the damage Desire had so carelessly wrought in Dream’s realm, all the better. “I cannot assist you in managing it, only offer the perspective of dreams. If it proves good counsel, then I will be glad.”

“If it proves good counsel,” Desire mutters. “Fuck you, you superior prick.”

But it is not as sharp and cutting as it might once have been.

Dream abruptly realizes his hand is still touching their hair, and removes himself. He stands, arranging his cloak around him.

“Well,” says Desire, craning their neck back to look up at him upside down, “you must be right on one count. Lingering about here is doing no good.” They stretch, arms above their head, spine cracking. “I suppose I will go stalk the outside world and see if I can’t stoke their desires from ember to inferno.”

“I am certain you can, if you feel that will achieve your aims,” Dream says. Desire’s ability to draw out human wants and push their pursuit is not in question, their mere presence in a space accomplishes that. Whether that will turn their charges away from passing, unsatisfying trinkets and to deeper pleasures is another matter. “Meanwhile, please withdraw your malaise from the borders of my realm. The small children are being hypnotized by dreams of meaningless drivel and it displeases me.”

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t like YouTube,” Desire sighs. They maneuver themselves to sitting in a slanted, tired lean. For a moment, the silence lingers, stretched between them like syrup.

Finally, growing uncomfortable but stiffening his spine, Dream says, “If you are not going to imminently fall apart and cause havoc, then I will take my leave.”

“I love how much you care,” says Desire, sarcastically. Then, tilting their head, “You do care. Just a little bit. Don’t you?”

Dream does not respond to this.

“You could have simply disentangled all your little dreams from my realm and instead you came to check on me,” they say, with glee, and Dream glares. And Desire, apparently sensing a fight, subsides.

“Always lovely when you come around, dear brother,” they say, reclining back against their chaise lounge, eyes glittering despite the neglected state of their form. “Do come again.”

“If you remedy your affairs, then I will not have to,” says Dream curtly, and steps backwards into the Dreaming.

Desire does so love to press buttons at moments when they have almost reached an accord. Desire, once his most loved sibling. Those days are gone now, and Dream does not see them coming back.