#Drug test methods

[amhnationwide]

Difference Between a Blood & Urine Drug Test

New Post has been published on https://amhnationwide.com/drug-testing/difference-between-a-blood-urine-drug-test/

Difference Between a Blood & Urine Drug Test

categories: #DrugTesting tags: #BloodDrugTest, #DrugTestMethods, #UrineDrugTest

[lucky-slice]

gotta make a side side blog so i can release all my illogical late night headcanons into the void

[pharmaceutical-company-in-india]

Ensuring Pharmaceutical Excellence Through Robust Quality Standards

Ensuring Pharmaceutical Excellence Through Robust Quality Standards

In the pharmaceutical industry, quality standards are not just benchmarks — they are lifelines. Ensuring the safety, efficacy, and consistency of medicinal products is critical for protecting public health and upholding trust in healthcare systems. From the development of new drugs to their final packaging and distribution, pharmaceutical companies must adhere to stringent processes governed by regulatory bodies across the globe.

With the growing complexity of medicines and increasing regulatory scrutiny, the implementation of effective quality control and quality assurance systems has become more crucial than ever. Pharmaceutical manufacturers are now investing heavily in advanced technologies, global certifications, and comprehensive training to ensure their products meet both national and international standards.

This article explores the significance of quality control in pharmaceuticals, the core principles that drive compliance, and how one of the top pharmaceutical manufacturing companies in India, Zuventus Healthcare Ltd., exemplifies these standards through their commitment to excellence.

The Role of Quality Standards in the Pharmaceutical Industry

In any healthcare setup, patient safety is paramount. This is why pharmaceutical companies must adhere to defined quality standards to minimize variability, ensure batch-to-batch consistency, and eliminate risks associated with substandard medications.

These standards are often guided by international frameworks such as:

Good Manufacturing Practices (GMP)

Good Laboratory Practices (GLP)

ISO and WHO certification requirements

Such guidelines cover every aspect of production, including the sourcing of raw materials, equipment validation, packaging, labelling, and even logistics. Ensuring full compliance guarantees that medications are safe, effective, and free from contamination.

Understanding Quality Control and Quality Assurance

While both quality control and quality assurance play vital roles, they serve distinct purposes within pharmaceutical operations:

Quality Control (QC) focuses on the quality control methods used during and after the manufacturing process. This includes testing raw materials, in-process samples, and finished products using scientific tools and techniques to ensure they meet predetermined specifications.

Quality Assurance (QA) is a broader concept. It includes establishing and maintaining a quality management system that oversees all procedures, documentation, and systems to prevent errors and ensure continuous improvement.

A successful pharmaceutical company integrates both functions seamlessly, ensuring every product released to the market meets the highest standards.

The Importance of GLP (Good Lab Practice)

GLP (Good Lab Practice) is another critical component of pharmaceutical quality assurance. These are a set of principles intended to assure the quality and integrity of non-clinical laboratory studies. GLP ensures that studies conducted are scientifically sound, reproducible, and acceptable to regulatory authorities.

By adhering to GLP, pharmaceutical companies can maintain confidence in their testing results, supporting product safety and efficacy claims with validated data.

Common Quality Control Methods in Pharmaceuticals

The most common quality control methods used in the pharmaceutical industry include:

High-Performance Liquid Chromatography (HPLC)

Gas Chromatography (GC)

Spectrophotometry (UV/IR)

Dissolution and Disintegration Testing

Stability Testing

These methods are vital for evaluating critical parameters such as purity, potency, dissolution, and shelf life, helping ensure consistent therapeutic outcomes.

How Zuventus Healthcare Embodies Pharmaceutical Quality

Among the many companies setting the bar in the pharmaceutical space, Zuventus Healthcare Ltd. stands out as one of the top pharmaceutical manufacturing companies in India, thanks to its unwavering commitment to quality.

Zuventus operates with a deep-rooted belief in the power of trust and transparency. Its operations are built on a world-class quality management system that governs every stage — from product development to distribution. Every unit of medicine manufactured undergoes rigorous testing and review, in line with international regulatory requirements.

Infrastructure and Compliance

Zuventus’s manufacturing facilities are WHO-GMP certified and comply with other leading quality standards, ensuring their products are globally accepted. The infrastructure supports high-volume production without compromising safety, thanks to integrated automation, controlled environments, and validated systems.

Quality Control and Assurance Practices

The company follows a structured quality control and quality assurance framework. Advanced labs equipped with HPLC, GC, UV spectrophotometers, and other validated instruments ensure robust quality control methods are consistently applied.

Meanwhile, the QA team manages documentation, SOP implementation, deviation tracking, and audits, aligning with best practices in quality control in pharmaceuticals.

Emphasis on GLP and R&D

Zuventus also ensures that GLP (Good Lab Practice) principles are followed rigorously in their research and development efforts. Their R&D division not only innovates new drug formulations but also ensures that lab data supporting these innovations are scientifically valid and reproducible.

Training and Continuous Improvement

An organization’s commitment to quality is only as strong as its people. Zuventus invests in continuous training and development programs to ensure employees stay updated on evolving regulations, technological advancements, and quality expectations.

Regular internal and external audits, CAPA systems, and real-time monitoring drive continuous quality enhancement and compliance.

Final Thoughts

As healthcare needs grow and evolve, so does the responsibility of pharmaceutical companies to maintain the highest quality standards. The integration of quality control and quality assurance, the application of effective quality control methods, and adherence to global best practices like GLP (Good Lab Practice) and GMP are non-negotiable elements for delivering safe and effective medications.

Companies like Zuventus Healthcare demonstrate how a focused approach to quality can lead not only to regulatory compliance but also to consumer trust, product excellence, and long-term success.

In a world where pharmaceutical integrity can mean the difference between health and harm, adopting a comprehensive, forward-thinking quality management system isn’t just an option — it’s a responsibility. And those who lead the way, like Zuventus, continue to set new standards for the industry.

[biomatengsummit-2025]

International Experts Summit on Biomaterials and Tissue Engineering

Welcome to the International Experts Summit on Biomaterials and Tissue Engineering, a meticulously organized conference by The Iconic Meetings. This summit aims to bring together leading researchers, practitioners, and global leaders in the field of scientific innovation.

[tittyinfinity]

I made a personal new record

149 bpm babeyyy (my heart rate is 77 right now for comparison)

I don't really know what happened. I was about to fall asleep and my chest started pounding. And then it just went away after a few minutes. Considering the fact that I had that episode last week where my throat closed up & I couldn't breathe, I have a suspicion that it's the new medication I've been put on, Strattera. A non-stimulant ADHD medication that's been making me tired and nauseous. Bc that's the only thing I've been doing differently

[reasonsforhope]

Article | Paywall Free

"The Food and Drug Administration approved new mRNA coronavirus vaccines Thursday [August 22, 2024], clearing the way for shots manufactured by Pfizer-BioNTech and Moderna to start hitting pharmacy shelves and doctor’s offices within a week.

Health officials encourage annual vaccination against the coronavirus, similar to yearly flu shots. Everyone 6 months and older should receive a new vaccine, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommends.

The FDA has yet to approve an updated vaccine from Novavax, which uses a more conventional vaccine development method but has faced financial challenges.

Our scientific understanding of coronavirus vaccines has evolved since they debuted in late 2020. Here’s what to know about the new vaccines.

Why are there new vaccines?

The coronavirus keeps evolving to overcome our immune defenses, and the shield offered by vaccines weakens over time. That’s why federal health officials want people to get an annual updated coronavirus vaccine designed to target the latest variants. They approve them for release in late summer or early fall to coincide with flu shots that Americans are already used to getting.

The underlying vaccine technology and manufacturing process are the same, but components change to account for how the virus morphs. The new vaccines target the KP.2 variant because most recent covid cases are caused by that strain or closely related ones...

Do the vaccines prevent infection?

You probably know by now that vaccinated people can still get covid. But the shots do offer some protection against infection, just not the kind of protection you get from highly effective vaccines for other diseases such as measles.

The 2023-2024 vaccine provided 54 percent increased protection against symptomatic covid infections, according to a CDC study of people who tested for the coronavirus at pharmacies during the first four months after that year’s shot was released...

A nasal vaccine could be better at stopping infections outright by increasing immunity where they take hold, and one is being studied in a trial sponsored by the National Institutes of Health.

If you really want to dodge covid, don’t rely on the vaccine alone and take other precautions such as masking or avoiding crowds...

Do the vaccines help prevent transmission?

You may remember from early coverage of coronavirus vaccines that it was unclear whether shots would reduce transmission. Now, scientists say the answer is yes — even if you’re actively shedding virus.

That’s because the vaccine creates antibodies that reduce the amount of virus entering your cells, limiting how much the virus can replicate and make you even sicker. When vaccination prevents symptoms such as coughing and sneezing, people expel fewer respiratory droplets carrying the virus. When it reduces the viral load in an infected person, people become less contagious.

That’s why Peter Hotez, a physician and co-director of the Texas Children’s Hospital Center for Vaccine Development, said he feels more comfortable in a crowded medical conference, where attendees are probably up to date on their vaccines, than in a crowded airport.

“By having so many vaccinated people, it’s decreasing the number of days you are shedding virus if you get a breakthrough infection, and it decreases the amount of virus you are shedding,” Hotez said.

Do vaccines prevent long covid?

While the threat of acute serious respiratory covid disease has faded, developing the lingering symptoms of “long covid” remains a concern for people who have had even mild cases. The CDC says vaccination is the “best available tool” to reduce the risk of long covid in children and adults. The exact mechanism is unclear, but experts theorize that vaccines help by reducing the severity of illness, which is a major risk factor for long covid.

When is the best time to get a new coronavirus vaccine?

It depends on your circumstances, including risk factors for severe disease, when you were last infected or vaccinated, and plans for the months ahead. It’s best to talk these issues through with a doctor.

If you are at high risk and have not recently been vaccinated or infected, you may want to get a shot as soon as possible while cases remain high. The summer wave has shown signs of peaking, but cases can still be elevated and take weeks to return to low levels. It’s hard to predict when a winter wave will begin....

Where do I find vaccines?

CVS said its expects to start administering them within days, and Walgreens said that it would start scheduling appointments to receive shots after Sept. 6 and that customers can walk in before then.

Availability at doctor’s offices might take longer. Finding shots for infants and toddlers could be more difficult because many pharmacies do not administer them and not every pediatrician’s office will stock them given low demand and limited storage space.

This year’s updated coronavirus vaccines are supposed to have a longer shelf life, which eases the financial pressures of stocking them.

The CDC plans to relaunch its vaccine locator when the new vaccines are widely available, and similar services are offered by Moderna and Pfizer."

-via The Washington Post, August 22, 2024

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Kidnapping, Drugging

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Yandere!Alhaitham x Reader, but Reader had a former crush on Alhaitham in their Akademiya years.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It's just a meeting. That's what you tell yourself, at least. Just a meeting between colleagues; just a meeting between what never was and what could have been; just a meeting between the sun and the moon, the sea and the stars.

That's all it is, but there's still a small, painful part of you that can't seem to stop ruminating on what might happen in the next hour. The still-searing brand of love that had been etched on your heart still aches. You hoped that this meeting would lay it to rest.

Knocking on the plain wooden door, his muffled voice responds a second later.

"Come in."

With one final moment to collect yourself, you push open the door. His office is unsurprisingly, very plain and orderly. There's a shelf of books behind him, a few manila files on his desk as well as a hefty stack of paperwork. Glancing over your shoulder, you spy a small ceramic pot resting on the windowsill, a single Sumeru Rose planted inside.

Its flourishing beauty makes you wilt. Years ago, when you were soon to embark to Fontaine to conduct some field research for your thesis, you had confessed to Alhaitham with a Sumeru Rose.

"Are you alright?" Alhaitham's voice snaps you back to the present.

You nod, shuffling over to the chair, its wooden legs scraping across the floor. You're so close to Alhaitham now, that you can see a stray hair on his shoulder. The sight of it makes you wonder what would happen if you were to pluck it off.

No, you remind yourself. You're not in love with him anymore, and he never loved you anyways.

If Alhaitham notices that your eyes are searing a hole into his shoulder, he doesn't say anything. "I'm assuming you understand why I asked to see you, correct?"

"The position of Acting Sage of Rtawahist, correct?"

The room feels humid, likely due to both your anxiety and the warm weather. Looking around, you notice two glasses and a pitcher of water resting off to the side of the desk. As Alhaitham lectures about the position, you reach for the pitcher and fill up a glass of water.

"...position will likely not be necessary after around two weeks," Alhaitham finishes, eyes still boring into yours. You take a sip of water.

It's bitter.

You can't help but furrow your eyebrows. Alhaitham picks up on your expression quickly. "The Akademiya has been testing out new water filtration methods. It produces cleaner water, though some say that it may taste slightly strange," he explains.

The two of you launch back into discussing the details of your new position, but as time begins to pass, you feel off. Not just the kind of off where you need a break, but the kind of off where you feel like you're about to pass out.

"A-ah...haitham," you slur. You don't feel any pain, just tingles running through your veins, spreading throughout your body before rendering your muscles limp.

The man stands up calmly and walks around the desk, supporting your shoulders. "You're okay, just breathe."

You try to, but find yourself unable to do anything.

Everything is blanketed in blackness soon after.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You wake up to the morning sun's long, lovely fingers caressing the curve of your jaw, as well as the sweet hymns of birds and the breeze echoing through trees. It's almost picturesque, really.

Everything feels so right, that for a moment, you're prepared to close your eyes and go back to bed. But then you notice the walls are a lighter green than your bedroom, the sheets you're curled up in are not your own, and the furniture arrangement is completely different from that of your home's.

Oh, and then there's the person sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the room, staring at you unblinkingly.

It takes a moment for you to realize that the figure is Alhaitham, whose analytical eyes are reading you like you're a textbook on some convoluted subject only smart alecks like him would bother to study.

The look in his eyes almost scares you for a moment. You try to move your arms to push yourself up, but find that your wrists have been bound together.

"Alhaitham, what are you doing?"

The man takes a moment to stand and walk towards your bedside, gaze focused and unreadable. "I'm correcting a grave mistake," he says, a hand reaching out to clasp yours, gently stroking your palm with his thumb. "I was foolish to reject your love, but now I understand. I want you."

His words nearly make you pass out again. "That's not how it works, Alhaitham," you protest, "I don't...I don't love you any-"

"Why did you hesitate?"

"Because I just woke up. I'm not exactly thinking straight."

"Or maybe it's because you know you're lying." Alhaitham's words are tinged with condescension, his stare cold and unyielding. "Given enough time, you'll learn to love me again," he says. His hand leaves yours and moves up to your face, brushing up against your jaw. His touch should be warm, but you only feel cold.

You glare. "I doubt it."

For a moment, the corners of Alhaitham's lips quirk up in a semi-smile. It amuses him that you think you have a choice—a chance, really. After all, nothing's coming to save you.

He's got all the time in the world to make you fall in love with him.

[jenchan-writingmultis]

Sylus SFW/NSFW Headcanon/s

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A/n: I genuinely couldn’t resist. I’m sorry.  This is also my first time writing headcanons that are NSFW! I hope you like it! And I based Sylus on that anonymous man that Rafayel was talking to, while it’s definitely inaccurate, I didn’t know where to base him from aside from the leaked trailer, I hope you like this one!

Masterlist

Pairing: Sylus x AFAB Reader

Warning: NSFW Up ahead! This is for 18+ readers. Stockholm Syndrome, TOXIC! Obsessive love, unhealthy relationship. Degradation

Tell me if I left a warning out, I’ll update this immediately.

Credits: The line dividers are from Kaomoji; the art is from Love and Deepspace ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SFW: ✧ He’s the kind of person who won't hold back. After you were handed to him like a free meal, he decided that whatever you discussed with Xavier and Rafayel would fail, and he’d ensure it. Even if the plan was to infiltrate Onychinus, he would absolutely make sure it failed.

✧ When Rafayel handed you over to him, he was so elated that he ordered his men to take you to his home as soon as you were drugged, where you’ll be kept trapped. Unlike the other male leads, he isn't upfront but rather lurks in the shadows, stalking your every move.

✧ Even though he acknowledges your capability and doesn’t see you as a weakling, he will ensure you remain completely obedient to him. If you try to escape, he will isolate you further, providing only food and water to keep you alive. In his view, isolation is the most effective method of punishment, especially if it means breaking your spirit to force your obedience.

✧ He despises you. He hates how you make him feel like he's dependent on your presence, while you, on the other hand, don’t even know him, to himself, you were his whole world. Sylus won’t tell you how easy it is for you to have him under your thumb.

✧ You may hate him for your own reasons, and he can see it in your eyes. Yes, he might have been responsible for the explosion that took your childhood friend and grandmother, but it wasn’t entirely intentional. He didn’t expect you to come home so early that day; it was a miscalculation on his part.  He won’t tell you that though, he likes seeing you so focused on him with an emotion you would never feel for the other men in your life. The hatred fuels him.

✧ Now while he’s lenient with you growling and squirming like a mutt, if you try to bite and hurt him back, he’s going to make sure to put a collar around your neck, you’re being a bad pet. He’ll make sure that you drop that disobedience before he’s forced to make it leak out of you instead.

✧ If you start to relax, or simply get tired of trying to escape, he will reward you by letting you go out with him. However, if you try to speak or ask for help, the collar around your neck will inject you with drugs that will turn your brain to mush, ensuring you won’t betray him in public. Not that anyone would dare to save you; he’s confident a few people recognize him.

✧ Oh, don’t take him as someone reckless though, he takes extra measures to prevent you from acting out. Once he implements those safety measures, he’ll be happy to buy you outfits that fit his aesthetic, or anything you’d like really. Sometimes he’ll be nice to you, only sometimes.

✧ I think it’s obvious how he shows his hatred and love for you in these headcanons, he’s going to make sure to tear down that confidence you have, he’ll break you. One of his methods would be to have you be eaten by guilt till you start blaming yourself instead of him. He’s good with his words, he wouldn’t be gaining such loyal followers without it. ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

NSFW:

✧ BRAT TAMER TO THE FULLEST, he wouldn’t let you act out at all, if you tried, he’s gonna have you bent over the wall while he smacks your ass, making sure his handprint stays marked there. Till you can’t sit down comfortably, actually he won’t even let you test if you can sit down properly,  cause he’ll have you sitting on his lap, it can be during a meeting with his trusted companions, imagine a console table with almost 10 people along with him in front, while people are discussing their plans, you can’t even hear it properly cause of how deep his fingers are pumping in and out, his thumb pressing on your clit. If you let out a yelp he'd chuckle before nipping on your ear.

“Quiet, you’re distracting them” he’d murmur while squeezing your waist as a warning.

✧ While he gives off a vibe of being a dominant top if you want to ride him, he’ll let you, however with the condition that you make him cum before you do, which fails! Cause he has a pretty good endurance, you poor girl. Once he wins, he’ll flip you down, pinning your arms up while spreading your legs further, hand pressing on your soft tummy.

“Can’t even ride properly huh? You want me to do all the work pretty girl?"

✧ HATE SEX is one of his favorites, once you get the privilege to go out, if he ever sees you try to speak to another man aside from the bodyguards, he sent to watch over you while he’s busy, he’s going to use that as a reason to leave multiple marks on your body, specifically your neck. You can’t even hide it, along with the bite marks on your thighs. Oh right, not like anyone can see it, you’re forbidden from going out till he milks you of every orgasm he can pull out of you for the next few days.

✧ The type to finger you while you’re in public, if you’re wearing something short, like a skirt, he’ll lift it up, sliding his hand underneath your panty before fingering you. Make sure you don't make too much noise now, or people will notice, slut.

✧ He’s messy, the type to eat you out like a man starved, watch him suck on your clit while he pushes his fingers on your sweet spot, he had his arms wrapped around your thighs just so you don’t try to run away from his skillful tongue, the type of man to make you squirt and once he does he gets drunks over your taste, pulling away a bit just to look at you,

“One more, I know you can take it” he’d say before giving your puffy clit a kiss."

[mandoalorian]

crimson fever [bucky barnes x f!reader]

Synopsis: In the icy shadows of 1944 occupied Europe, you uncover a dangerous Hydra secret that could shift the war’s tide. But Hydra’s ruthless scientist, Arnim Zola, marks you as a threat, unleashing a sinister drug—“crimson fever”—that set your body and soul ablaze with an unrelenting desire. As you fight to protect vital intel, your path collides with Sergeant Bucky Barnes, your childhood friend from Brooklyn, whose unspoken love for you burns brighter than the war’s chaos.

Warnings: 18+ explicit, smut, sex pollen that comes with themes of dub-con, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, exhibitionism sorta, reader is drugged via injectables, descriptions of pain, canon typical violence, torture, one use of Y/N, Winter Soldier foreshadowing.

Word Count: 6700

Author's note: Thank you to @notreallythatlost for helping me with all the German translations. I love youuu. ღ

ᯓ★ Masterlist

✮ PROJECT: WINTER SOLDIER ✮

Objective: Develop a serum enhancing physical strength, endurance, and healing, surpassing the Allied “Super Soldier” serum used on Captain America. The serum is paired with psychological conditioning.

Methods: Subjects— prisoners, captured soldiers, “recruited” operatives undergo experimental injections and brutal brainwashing techniques including sensory deprivation, electroshock, and chemical inducements to break their minds.

Timeline: Initial trials are active in an underground facility, in occupied France. Production to be scaled by 1945. Report to Johann Schmidt.

Der Winter Soldier wird die Zukunft von Hydra sein. (The Winter Soldier will be Hydra’s future.)

You hunched over the decrypted Hydra message, your eyes burning from hours of work, fingers smudged with pencil lead. The office buzzed with quiet urgency—typewriters clacked, a radio hissed static, and your fellow codebreakers murmured over their own stacks of intercepts. You’d been at it since dawn, unraveling Hydra’s coded transmissions, each one a puzzle that could save lives or lose them. Your role as a linguist, fluent in German and trained in cryptography, made you vital to the Allies, but tonight, the weight of what you’d uncovered felt like a stone in your chest.

“Carter, you need to see this,” you called, your voice sharp, cutting through the room’s hum. You pushed your chair back, the wood scraping the floor, and held up the decrypted page, its typed German translated into your neat handwriting. Your heart raced, the words searing your mind: Projekt Winter Soldier.

Peggy Carter, poised in her tailored ATS uniform, strode over, her heels clicking on the hardwood. Her dark eyes flicked to the paper, then to you, sharp and assessing. “What’ve you got?” she asked, voice crisp but laced with concern.

You swallowed, pointing to the key lines. “It’s Hydra. Something called ‘Project Winter Soldier.’ They’re experimenting—on people, not just weapons. It mentions a serum, like what they used on Captain Rogers, but… different. They want to create operatives with no will, no memory. ‘Perfect obedience,’ they call it.” Your voice trembled, and you tapped a name scrawled at the bottom. “Signed by Arnim Zola. He’s running it.”

Peggy’s jaw tightened, her fingers brushing the paper. “Zola,” she muttered, disgust curling her lips. “That man’s a butcher with a scientist’s ego.” She scanned the text, her expression hardening. “This is big. If they’re building mind-controlled soldiers…”

“It’s worse,” you interrupted, voice low, glancing at the other codebreakers—two women, heads down, oblivious. “They’re testing it now. Somewhere in France. Prisoners, maybe captured soldiers. They mention a ‘prototype’ and… something about breaking their minds first.”

Peggy’s eyes met yours, a silent understanding passing between you. “We need to get this to Colonel Phillips. Tonight.” She turned, barking at the codebreakers. “Eleanor, Joan, wrap up and secure the files. We’re locking down.”

You nodded, heart pounding, but a flicker of pride warmed you. You’d cracked this, you’d found the truth. You thought of Bucky Barnes, your old friend from Brooklyn—his cocky grin, the way he’d sneak you comics, the almost-kiss on that Coney Island pier in ’39. He was out there with Captain Rogers, fighting Hydra. This intel could help him, keep him safe. You tucked the thought away, focusing on the task, and began gathering your notes.

The door crashed open, wood splintering, and you froze. Four Hydra soldiers stormed in, black uniforms stark against the office’s warmth, their rifles gleaming with that eerie blue glow of Hydra tech. Peggy spun, drawing her pistol, but a soldier fired, a blast of energy grazing her arm. She hissed, diving behind a cabinet.

“[Y/N], get down!” Peggy shouted, but you were already moving, shoving the Winter Soldier intel into your blouse, your hands shaking. The codebreakers screamed, scrambling for cover, and you ducked behind the desk, heart hammering. The soldiers barked in German, their voices harsh.

“Die Linguistin! Bringt sie mir lebend!” one ordered—The linguist! Take her alive!—and your blood ran cold. They wanted you. Your codes, your knowledge, or… the intel you’d just found.

You grabbed a letter opener, its dull blade a pitiful weapon, and crouched, peering through the desk’s gap. A soldier loomed closer, his boots thudding, and you lunged, stabbing his thigh. He roared, backhanding you, and pain exploded across your cheek, knocking you to the floor. The room spun, but you scrambled up, clutching the desk, only to feel iron hands seize your arms.

“No!” you yelled, thrashing, but the soldiers pinned you, their grips bruising. Peggy fired from cover, dropping one, but another blasted the cabinet, forcing her back. You kicked, aiming for a groin, and connected, earning a grunt, but a rifle butt slammed your temple, and darkness flickered at your vision’s edge.

“Enough,” a new voice said, cold and precise, cutting through the chaos. Arnim Zola stepped into the room, his small frame dwarfed by the soldiers but radiating menace. His round glasses glinted in the bulb’s light, and his smile was a thin, cruel line. “Fräulein, you are far too valuable to kill.”

You glared, blood trickling from your lip, the intel paper crinkling against your skin. “You’ll get nothing from me,” you spat, voice hoarse but defiant.

Zola chuckled, a dry, hollow sound. “Oh, we shall see.” He nodded to the soldiers. “Take her to the transport. We have… experiments to conduct.”

A soldier jabbed a syringe into your neck, and a sharp sting gave way to a creeping warmth, a sedative, dulling your senses. You fought to stay conscious, to memorise Zola’s face, his words. “Winter Soldier…” you mumbled, half-delirious, and Zola’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise.

“Secure her,” he snapped, and the soldiers dragged you toward the door, your legs buckling. Peggy’s shouting your name followed you, but the world blurred, and you were gone, the intel tucked against your heart, a secret you’d guard with everything you had.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

You’d been gone for weeks, a fact that gnawed at Bucky Barnes like a wound he couldn’t stitch. He stood against the command post’s wall, dog tags clinking under his olive-drab jacket, his eyes scanning a corkboard plastered with mission lists, reconnaissance photos, and urgent telegrams. His fingers, calloused from gripping a sniper rifle, hovered over a typed sheet, and then froze.

Your name stared back at him, stark in black ink: Allied Linguist, Captured, Hydra Facility, Occupied France.

His breath caught, sharp and painful, like a blade between ribs. You—his friend from Brooklyn, the girl who’d steal his cap and run, laughing, through Prospect Park, the one he’d nearly kissed under Coney Island’s Ferris wheel in ’39—were in Hydra’s hands.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered under his breath. He ripped the paper from the board, the pin clattering to the floor, and his hand trembled, betraying the storm inside. Memories flooded him: summer nights on your stoop, your hair tucked under a scarf, teasing him about his latest dame. But truthfully, he only had eyes for you.

“You’ll run outta girls to charm, Barnes,” you’d said, smirking, but your eyes had softened, holding something he’d been too dumb to name.

He’d leaned in, heart pounding, only for Steve’s call to break the moment. Then the war came, you to London cracking codes, him to the front with Steve, and letters faded. Now, Hydra had you, and the thought of you in Zola’s grip—Zola, whose name he’d heard tied to twisted experiments, made his stomach churn.

“Hey, Buck, what’s got you lookin’ like you swallowed a grenade?” Steve Rogers’ voice cut through, steady but concerned. He stood across the room, all Captain America in his blue jacket, leaning over a map with Colonel Phillips. His blond hair caught the dim light, but his eyes locked on Bucky, reading the tension in his friend’s stance.

Bucky strode over, boots thudding on the creaky floor, and slapped the list onto the map, scattering pencils. “It’s her, Steve,” he said, voice tight, low, like he was holding back a shout. “From Brooklyn. You remember her—used to tag along with us, always givin’ me hell.” He swallowed, jaw clenching. “Hydra’s got her. Says she’s a linguist, crackin’ their codes. She’s in one of their damn facilities.”

Steve’s eyes widened, flicking to the list, then back to Bucky. His memory was sparking. “The one who’d sneak us into the library after hours? Yeah, I remember.” He straightened, voice firming. “She’s tough, Buck. But Hydra…”

“She’s more than tough,” Bucky snapped, then caught himself, running a hand through his dark hair. “She’s… she’s family, Steve. And you know what Hydra does…” His voice cracked, and he gripped the table, knuckles whitening. “We gotta get her out. Now.”

Colonel Phillips, puffing a cigar, looked up with a scowl, his weathered face etched with irritation. “Sergeant Barnes, we’ve got ops stacked to the ceiling,” he growled, exhaling smoke. “Hydra’s got captives everywhere—this linguist ain’t our priority.”

“She is to me,” Bucky retorted, his voice low but fierce, eyes boring into Phillips. “Sir, she’s got intel—Hydra’s codes, maybe more. She cracked somethin’ big before they took her. Losin’ her gives them an edge.” It was a half-truth; he’d burn the world for you, intel or not, but he knew Phillips needed a reason.

Steve studied Bucky, seeing the truth—the kind of loyalty that went beyond duty, rooted in Brooklyn’s streets, in quiet moments you’d shared. “Colonel,” Steve said, voice calm but unyielding, “the Howling Commandos can handle this. We hit the facility, get her out, and cripple Hydra’s operation. Two birds, one stone.”

Phillips grunted, stabbing his cigar into the ashtray. “Fine, Rogers. But if this goes south, it’s your ass.” He waved them off, turning to an aide, already dismissing the matter.

Bucky exhaled, tension easing a fraction, but his heart still raced, pounding with fear for you. He met Steve’s gaze, a silent thank-you passing between them. “We’ll get her, Buck,” Steve said, clapping his shoulder. “Promise.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, voice rough, folding the list and tucking it into his pocket, next to a faded photo—you, him, and Steve at Coney Island, 1939, your smile bright as the summer sun. He headed for the door, the room’s chaos—officers shouting, radio static—fading behind him. Outside, the Howling Commandos lounged near a jeep, cleaning rifles and trading jabs in the grey dawn.

“Sarge, what’s the word?” Dum Dum Dugan called, his mustache twitching as he tossed a flask to Gabe Jones, who caught it with a grin.

Bucky held up the folded list, his sergeant’s calm settling over him like armour, though his voice carried an edge. “We got a job,” he said, eyes scanning the team—Gabe, Jim Morita, Monty Falsworth, Jacques Dernier. “Hydra’s holdin’ one of ours—a linguist, key to their codes. She’s in a facility in France. We’re hittin’ it, gettin’ her out, and blowin’ the place to hell.” He paused, his grip tightening on the paper. “She’s from my neighborhood. Means somethin’ to me. You in?”

Gabe nodded, his smile fading to seriousness. “Always, Barnes.”

Dum Dum cracked his knuckles, grinning. “Hell, Sarge, let’s give them a mornin’ they won’t forget.”

Jacques smirked, twirling a knife. “Pour la France,” he said, voice low, and Jim and Monty murmured agreement, their faces set.

Bucky forced a smirk, but his mind was on you—alone, maybe hurt, fighting Zola’s experiments with that fire he’d always admired. He touched the photo in his pocket, your face burned into his memory, and whispered, so quiet no one heard, “Hold on, doll. I’m comin’ for you.”

The words were a vow, and he’d keep it, no matter what Hydra threw at him.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

You lay curled on a thin cot in a Hydra cell, your body trembling, skin flushed with an unnatural heat that made your pulse race and your breath come in shallow, desperate gasps. The crimson fever drug, injected by Arnim Zola weeks ago after your kidnapping in London, burned through you, twisting your mind with a relentless need you fought to suppress. Your blouse, torn and stained, hid the crumpled Winter Soldier intel you’d kept secret, its paper pressed against your chest like a talisman.

You’d overheard Zola’s gloating—his “perfect obedience” experiments, the “winter soldier” prototype—and your linguist’s mind clung to those details, even as the drug threatened to unravel you. “Stay sharp,” you whispered to yourself, voice hoarse, your nails digging into your palms to anchor you against the fever’s pull.

Outside, Bucky Barnes crouched behind a snow-dusted ridge, his M1 Garand rifle steady in his hands, breath clouding in the frigid air. You weren’t there to see it, but you’d have felt the weight of his resolve, his heart pounding with one thought: getting you back. The Howling Commandos flanked him—Dum Dum Dugan reloading his Thompson submachine gun, Gabe Jones checking a radio, Jim Morita adjusting his scope, Monty Falsworth and Jacques Dernier wiring explosives. The plan was tight: hit hard, find you, blow the place to hell. Bucky’s jaw clenched, your face—Brooklyn summers, that Coney Island almost-kiss—burning in his mind.

“Ready, Sarge?” Dum Dum asked, his moustache twitching as he grinned, though his eyes were hard, scanning the bunker a hundred yards away.

“Let’s give ‘em hell,” you’d have heard Bucky reply, his voice low, all sergeant, but laced with something raw. He signalled, and Jacques tossed a smoke grenade, grey haze cloaking the ridge. The team moved like a well-oiled machine, slipping toward the bunker, their boots silent in the snow. Gabe’s radio crackled, confirming Allied distractions were pulling Hydra’s outer patrols away. Bucky’s heart thundered, not for the fight, but for you, trapped in Zola’s nightmare.

A Hydra guard at the entrance barely turned before Bucky’s knife found his throat, a silent kill, blood dark against the snow. “Go,” Bucky hissed, and Jacques’ charges blew the steel door, the blast rattling the night.

Alarms screamed, red lights pulsing inside, and Hydra soldiers poured into the corridor, their blue-energy rifles spitting death. You heard the gunfire, distant but growing louder, a chaotic symphony that stirred hope in your fevered haze. “Help…” you mumbled, clutching the cot’s edge, your body shaking as you tried to sit.

Bucky ducked behind a crate, returning fire, his shots precise, dropping two guards. “Push through!” he shouted, voice cutting through the din. Dum Dum’s Thompson roared, mowing down a squad, while Monty and Jim covered the rear, grenades shaking the walls. “Lab’s that way!”

Gabe yelled, pointing left, where a sign read Forschungsbereich—research sector. Bucky’s gut twisted, Zola’s name a poison in his thoughts. If Zola had touched you…

“Keep movin’!” Bucky ordered, leading the charge past sparking machinery and shattered glass, his boots slipping on spilled chemicals. Jacques planted more explosives, grinning like a kid with firecrackers.

“Pour la France!” he muttered, wiring a console. You heard the blasts, closer now, and dragged yourself upright, your vision swimming but your will iron. The Winter Soldier intel crinkled against your skin, a secret you’d die to protect.

The cell block was a maze of iron doors, damp concrete slick underfoot. Bucky rounded a corner, gun raised, and there you were—behind a barred window, slumped but alive, your hair matted with sweat, eyes flickering with fever. His heart lurched, he called your name, voice raw, cracking like a boy’s. A Hydra guard lunged from the shadows, but Bucky slammed him against the wall, the man’s skull cracking with a sickening thud.

“Bucky?” you whispered, your voice weak but sharp with recognition, cutting through the drug’s fog. You staggered to the bars, fingers trembling as you gripped them, your blouse clinging to your fevered skin. The needle marks on your arm stood out, angry red, and your breath hitched, a mix of relief and desperation.

“I’m here, doll,” Bucky said, fumbling with the lock, his hands shaking until Gabe tossed him a pilfered keyring. “Hold on.” The door swung open, and he was at your side, dropping to his knees, his hands cupping your face. Your skin burned under his touch, too hot, and your eyes, though glassy, locked onto his, a spark of you still fighting. “It’s me,” he said, voice soft but urgent, thumb brushing your cheek. You leaned into his hand, a whimper escaping, your body trembling with something more than weakness—a need that alarmed him.

“Bucky… they… Zola…” you stammered, your fingers clutching his jacket, nails digging in. “Crimson fever… it’s in me… burning…” Your voice broke, shame flickering in your eyes, but you forced out, “Winter Soldier… I know… they’re making…” You trailed off, a shudder racking you, and Bucky’s blood ran cold, the intel’s weight hitting him.

“Shush, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Bucky hummed, his arms tightening around your body, not caring about any intel. Not caring about the war. Not caring about anything. Just you. 

Your shaky hands went to pass him the intel, but failed with exhaustion. “Winter. Soldier.” you bit out again, aimlessly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “Winter Soldier? No, no doll, it’s me. It’s Buck, from Brooklyn,” he was misunderstanding, and you couldn’t blame him. “What’d they do to you?” he growled, his voice low, rage barely leashed as he saw the needle marks, the fever’s flush.

But you couldn’t get your words out. 

He scooped you up, your weight light but your grip fierce, your head lolling against his shoulder. “I got you,” he said, standing, his arms steady despite the chaos. Your breath was ragged, too warm against his neck, and he felt the drug’s unnatural pull in your touch, your fingers clutching too tightly, too desperately.

“Base is rigged!” Jacques shouted from the corridor, where the team held off reinforcements, blue energy scorching the walls.

Dum Dum’s voice boomed, “Thirty seconds, Barnes!” Explosions rumbled, the facility shaking as charges blew.

“Bucky, the intel…” you mumbled, half-lucid, patting your blouse weakly. “Winter Soldier… don’t let them…” Your voice faded, the fever stealing your strength, but your words seared him, tying your fight to the horror he’d only heard whispers of.

“I won’t,” he promised, voice fierce, dodging a blast that charred the wall. It was an empty promise, but that didn’t matter right now. He still didn’t understand completely what you were mumbling about. 

He carried you through smoke and gunfire, the Commandos covering him—Monty tossing a grenade, Gabe firing steadily. “Stay with me, doll,” he said, his boots pounding as he reached the exit, the night air hitting like a slap.

The bunker erupted behind you, flames licking the sky, and the team piled into a stolen Hydra truck, Gabe at the wheel. Bucky slid you into the back, climbing in beside you, holding you close as the truck lurched forward, tires crunching snow. Your fevered body curled against him, your hand still clutching the hidden intel, and Bucky’s mind raced.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

You slumped against Bucky Barnes in the corner of the Hydra truck’s cargo bed, your body a furnace of torment, every nerve alight with the crimson fever drug’s cruel fire. Your skin burned, slick with sweat despite the November chill, and your pulse thundered in your ears, each beat a drum urging you toward something you barely understood. Your blouse, torn and clinging to your damp skin, hid the crumpled Winter Soldier intel you’d guarded since London, its paper a faint crinkle against your chest.

The drug, injected by Arnim Zola during those weeks in his lab, twisted your mind, flooding you with an aching, primal need that made your thighs clench and your breath hitch in sharp, desperate gasps. You fought it, nails digging into your palms, but your body betrayed you, hips shifting restlessly, a soft whimper escaping as you pressed closer to Bucky, his warmth both a lifeline and a torment.

Bucky held you tightly, his arm a steel band around your shoulders, his wool jacket rough against your cheek. You felt his heartbeat, steady but quick, through his chest, and his breath clouded in the cold air, his dog tags clinking faintly as he shifted to shield you from a gust. His eyes, shadowed under the swaying lantern’s amber glow, darted to you, worry carving lines into his face. You’d seen him tough, cocky, tossing quips in Brooklyn diners, but now he was raw, his sergeant’s calm fraying at the sight of your trembling hands, the way your fingers clutched his sleeve like he was the only thing keeping you sane.

“Doll, talk to me,” Bucky whispered, voice low, meant only for you, his lips brushing your ear. His calloused hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face to meet his gaze, and the touch sent a jolt through you, your body shuddering as a wave of heat pulsed low in your belly.

You moaned softly, unintended, and your eyes fluttered, half-lidded, the drug amplifying his touch into something overwhelming, intoxicating. Your hips twitched, pressing against his thigh, and you bit your lip, shame flooding you even as your body begged for more.

The Howling Commandos sprawled around you, their presence a grounding hum amid your chaos. Dum Dum Dugan, sprawled on a crate, polished his Thompson, muttering, “Damn roads are gonna shake my teeth loose.”

Gabe Jones, at the wheel, cursed as the tires skidded, shouting, “Hold tight, this ain’t a Sunday drive!” Jim Morita cleaned his rifle, Monty sipped from a flask, and Jacques toyed with a looted Hydra grenade, whistling a French tune.

You looked at the men. If you wanted, you could have had any one of them. They could have given you what you needed. But it was the Sergeant who had owned your heart since the very start. He was the one you trusted more than anyone else. The infantry’s banter was a lifeline, but they didn’t see your state, didn’t hear the soft, needy sounds you stifled against Bucky’s neck.

“Bucky…” you managed, voice cracked, barely audible over the truck’s rumble. Your hand slid up his chest, fingers curling around his dog tags, the metal cool against your burning skin. The contact sent another shiver through you, your thighs squeezing together as a fresh surge of desire made your breath hitch, a low, throaty moan escaping before you could stop it. You were drowning in it—the fever’s heat, the drug’s relentless pull, the ache that coiled tighter with every second. “I… I need to tell you,” you whispered, urgent, your lips grazing his ear, the intimacy of it making your skin prickle. “Alone.”

His pulse spiked—you felt it under your fingers—and his eyes widened, alarm mixing with something deeper, unspoken. “Okay,” he said, voice rough, glancing at the team. The Commandos were distracted, Gabe wrestling the wheel, Dum Dum arguing with Monty over the flask. Bucky shifted, easing you behind a stack of crates, the wood splintered and cold against your back. He knelt in front of you, his hands steadying your shoulders, his gaze searching yours. “What’s goin’ on, doll? You’re burnin’ up,” he said, thumb brushing your cheek, and you gasped, your body arching toward him, the touch igniting sparks that made your hips rock involuntarily.

You swallowed, tears welling, the shame of your need warring with the urgency to speak. “Zola… he gave me something,” you said, words spilling in a rush, your voice trembling. “Called it crimson fever. It’s… it’s making me want things. Need things.” Your breath hitched, a sob catching as you clutched his wrist, your nails digging in. “It’s in my blood, Bucky. It’s burning me, making me… want you. Not just want—I can’t stop it. If I don’t… get release, he said I’ll go mad.” Your cheeks flushed deeper, not just from fever but humiliation, and you looked away, tears dripping onto your lap.

Bucky’s breath caught, his hand tightening on yours, crumpling the edge of his jacket. You saw the horror in his eyes, but also love, fierce and unyielding, rooted in Brooklyn nights when you’d danced around his teasing, your laughter brighter than the city lights.

“Jesus,” he muttered, voice hoarse, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. Your breath mingled, hot and ragged, and you moaned again, your body reacting to his nearness, hips shifting, thighs trembling as the drug surged. “You don’t gotta be sorry,” he said, cupping your face, wiping tears with his thumbs. “This ain’t you—it’s them. Hydra. Zola. If they’re doing this, only God knows what else they have planned.”

Your body didn’t care for words. You didn’t need empathy. You pressed against him, a desperate, unconscious move, your hand sliding to his chest, fingers splaying over his heart. The drug made every touch electric, and you gasped, your skin flushing from chest to throat, a sheen of sweat glistening in the lantern’s light.

“Bucky, it hurts,” you whispered, voice raw, your lips brushing his jaw, leaving a faint heat. “I’m burning… I need you.” Your fingers tightened, tugging his jacket, and your hips rocked again, a soft, needy sound escaping as you fought the urge to climb into his lap. 

Your thighs clenched, the ache between them pulsing, and your breath came in short, frantic pants, each one a plea you hated but couldn’t stop.

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with a mix of guilt and desire he hated himself for feeling. You saw it—the way he fought his own reaction, his breath hitching as your touch stirred him, his love for you clashing with the drug’s twisted demand.

You were so needy, so clingy. And Bucky knew it wasn’t completely you, right? None the less he swallowed, trying to ignore the erection pressing against his trousers, begging for release. Every time your fingers grazed him even in the slighest, he felt like he was going to explode. The war had him touch-starved and desperate, that’s for sure. 

“Listen to me,” he said, voice low, steady, though it shook at the edges. “You’re stronger than this. We’re gonna get you through this, you hear me?” His hand slid to your neck, holding you gently, and you whimpered, the contact sending a shiver through you, your body arching, breasts pressing against him as another wave of need made you tremble.

“I trust you,” you said, voice breaking, your eyes locking onto his, lucid despite the fever’s haze. “Only you.” Your hand found his, guiding it to your waist, and you gasped as his fingers brushed your hip, the touch sparking a moan that made your thighs quiver. You were losing ground, the drug’s pull relentless, but your trust in Bucky—forged in Brooklyn, in quiet moments he’d never forgotten—kept you tethered.

The truck lurched, Gabe shouting, “Road’s blocked! Barn up ahead, half a mile!” The Commandos shifted, readying gear, their voices a blur.

“I have one grenade left.” You just about made out Jacques’ annoucement. 

But Bucky’s world was you, your fevered whispers, your body trembling with a need that wasn’t just the drug, but you, the girl he’d loved since that night on the Coney Island pier.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

You stumbled into the barn, Bucky’s arm steadying you, his warmth the only anchor against the crimson fever’s relentless fire. Your body was a storm of torment—skin flushed and slick with sweat, pulse hammering like a war drum, every nerve alight with a desperate, aching need that made your thighs tremble and your breath come in ragged, needy gasps. The drug, Arnim Zola’s cruel creation, had twisted your desire into something overwhelming, your hips shifting restlessly, a soft whimper escaping as you pressed against Bucky, his scent—wool, gunpowder, and something uniquely him—igniting a fresh wave of heat low in your belly. Your torn blouse clung to your damp skin.

The Winter Soldier intel was still hidden against your chest, a secret you’d guarded through weeks of captivity. You fought the fever’s pull, nails digging into your palms, but your body betrayed you, craving Bucky with an intensity that left you dizzy, your lips parting as another moan slipped free.

Bucky shut the barn door with a creak, sealing you in a fragile sanctuary, the wind’s howl fading to a low moan. He set the lantern on a crate, its glow catching the worry in his blue eyes, the tension in his jaw.

You felt his gaze, heavy and searching, as he knelt before you, easing you onto a makeshift bed of hay cushioned by his folded greatcoat, its wool warm from his body. Your hands clutched his jacket, fingers trembling, and you gasped, a shudder running through you as his touch sparked electricity, your hips twitching involuntarily. “Bucky…” you whispered, voice raw, your eyes glassy but locked on his, a flicker of you shining through the fever’s haze.

“Doll, I’m here,” he said, voice low, hoarse with worry, his calloused hand brushing your cheek. The contact sent a jolt through you, your body arching, a soft moan spilling out as your thighs clenched, the ache between them pulsing sharper. He froze, his breath hitching, and you saw the conflict in his eyes—love, longing, and fear that this wasn’t you, just the drug. “You’re still burnin’ up,” he said, thumb tracing your jaw, and you whimpered, your skin flushing deeper, a rosy heat spreading from your chest to your throat, glistening with sweat in the lantern’s light.

“Bucky, please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling, urgent, as you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand to your waist. The touch was fire, and you gasped, hips rocking toward him, your body trembling as the drug amplified every sensation. “I need you… it’s too much.” Tears welled, shame mixing with desire, but your eyes held his, fierce despite the fever. “I told you… I can’t fight it.”

He exhaled, shaky, his hand tightening on your hip, his dog tags clinking as he leaned closer. “I’ve wanted you forever,” he said, voice raw, breaking. “Since that damn pier in Brooklyn, since you laughed at my dumb jokes. But this…” He gestured to your trembling form, his eyes darkening with guilt. “I don’t wanna take advantage, doll. I need this to mean somethin’ to you, not just… Zola’s poison.” His thumb brushed your lip, and you moaned, loud and unrestrained, your body shuddering, thighs squeezing as a fresh wave of need made your breath stutter.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes — ever the gentleman.

“Don’t make me beg,” you said, voice sharp, almost a growl, your hand sliding to his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. He moaned, and the sound of his voice was like velvet. “I want you, Bucky. Always have. The drug’s making it worse, but it’s me.” Your eyes burned into his, lucid, defiant. “I trust you. Make me feel good. Please.” Your hips shifted, pressing against him, and a desperate, throaty moan escaped, your skin prickling as the fever surged, your pulse racing so fast you felt it in your throat.

Bucky’s resolve cracked, his breath ragged. “Alright, honey,” he whispered, voice thick with promise. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you feel good, I swear.” He kissed you, slow and deep, his lips soft but hungry, tasting of salt and desperation. You melted into it, your body trembling, a gasp catching as his tongue brushed yours, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands clutched his shoulders, nails digging in, and your hips rocked, the drug making every touch a spark that set your nerves ablaze.

He pulled back, eyes searching yours and you could see the question he wanted to ask ‘Are you sure?’, and you nodded, breathless, your chest heaving. “I’m sure,” you said, voice firm despite the fever’s haze.

He eased your blouse off, careful of the hidden intel, his fingers brushing your skin, and you gasped, your body arching, nipples tightening in the cold air. Your skin flushed deeper, sweat beading on your collarbone, and you whimpered, thighs trembling as his gaze alone sent a pulse of heat through you.

Bucky’s hands were gentle, reverent, as he traced your curves, his fingers lingering on your waist.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, voice raw, and you shivered, a soft moan escaping as his words stoked the fever’s fire. He kissed your throat, lips warm and deliberate, and you gasped, head tilting back, your pulse hammering under his mouth. Your body reacted vividly—skin flushing from chest to cheeks, thighs clenching as a fresh wave of desire made your hips rock, the ache between them unbearable.

“Bucky, touch me,” you pleaded, voice desperate, guiding his hand lower, your boldness driven by the drug but rooted in trust.

He nodded, his forehead against yours, breath mingling. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his fingers sliding down your stomach, slow and deliberate, tracing the soft skin above your thigh. You trembled, a sharp gasp tearing from you as his hand brushed closer, your thighs parting instinctively, inviting him.

Your skin prickled, sweat glistening, and your breath came in short, frantic pants, the drug making every touch electric. His fingers found your warmth, teasing gently, and you moaned, loud and needy, your hips bucking toward him, thighs quivering as a jolt of pleasure shot through you. 

“Bucky…” you breathed, clutching his wrist, nails digging in, your body tensing as he explored, his touch careful but sure.

Your reaction was immediate—muscles tightening, a flush spreading across your chest, your breath stuttering as his fingers circled, coaxing waves of heat that made your toes curl. You arched, hips rocking in rhythm, and your moans grew sharper, each one a desperate plea. The drug amplified every sensation, your skin hypersensitive, and you felt every callus, every movement, as if he were rewriting your nerves.

“Feels… so good,” you gasped, eyes fluttering shut, your thighs clenching around his hand as a coil tightened inside you. Bucky watched, his breath ragged, worry flickering but desire burning stronger.

“You’re with me, doll,” he murmured, kissing your jaw, and you nodded, a tear slipping free as pleasure overwhelmed you.

He shifted, lips trailing down your chest, and you whimpered, your body trembling as he kissed lower, his breath warm against your stomach. “Gonna make you feel even better,” he promised, voice low, and you gasped, hips lifting as his mouth found you, his tongue gentle but deliberate. 

The sensation was a lightning strike—your body jolted, a cry tearing from your throat, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging hard. Your thighs trembled, muscles quaking, and your breath came in short, desperate gasps, the drug making every lick a pulse of fire. Your skin flushed deeper, sweat beading on your brow, and you moaned, unrestrained, hips rocking against his mouth as pleasure built, sharp and relentless. “Bucky… oh, God…” you gasped, your voice breaking, your body tensing as you neared the edge, every nerve singing.

He pulled back, kissing your thigh, and you whimpered, desperate, your hands tugging him up. 

“Need you… now,” you said, voice raw, your eyes locked on his, lucid despite the fever. He nodded, shedding his trousers, dog tags clinking, and leaned over you, his body warm, grounding. 

“Tell me you want this,” he said, voice thick, needing your consent, his worry clear.

“I want you, Bucky,” you said, fierce, pulling him closer. “Always.”

He guided himself, the moment of connection slow, deliberate, and you gasped, a shudder running through you as he filled you, the sensation overwhelming, amplified by the drug. He was big, bigger than you had ever had before. He stretched you and you felt your body clamp down around him. Bucky’s cheeks flushed pink and you felt his short fingernails dig into your hips as he steadied himself. Your body reacted vividly—muscles clenching, thighs trembling, hips rising to meet him.

“So good…” you moaned, nails digging into his back, leaving crescent marks.

He moved, each thrust a rhythm of passion and care, his lips brushing your ear, whispering, “I’ve got you, doll.” 

You brought your hands up to his face, guiding him to your lips as he thrusted into you. This was more than sex — a cure to your condition. This was love. You kissed him slowly, leaning into the softness of his lips. He smelled like lingering smoke mixed with a sweetness you just couldn’t describe. It was familiar, like the cotton candy you picked at and shared on the pier at Coney Island.

“Do you remember that time when we stood at the edge of the pier and you were showing me the constellations in the sky?” You asked, your eyes finding Bucky’s, watching him as he fucked you.

“Mm,” he nodded his head, wordlessly. “Wanted to kiss you so bad that night.” He breathed into admittance. 

“I wanted you to kiss me too.” You replied before your words were cut off with a loud moan. Bucky grabbed your calves, pulling them up to his shoulders allowing him to go even deeper, hitting you at a new angle. Lewd, wet sounds echoed in the barn and you had visions of someone walking in. It only spurred you on even more. 

Your breaths mingled, your cries soft but desperate, the drug’s urgency blending with love. Your thighs tightened around him, hips rocking, and pleasure coiled tighter, your body trembling as you neared release. “Bucky…” you gasped, voice breaking, and he kissed you hard, just like he’d always imagined, deep and grounding, as you shattered, a cry muffled against his shoulder, the fever’s grip breaking. He followed, his climax a choked wave, shooting a warmth that painted your walls, arms tightening to hold you close.

The barn fell silent, save for your ragged breaths and the hay’s rustle. You collapsed against him, trembling, the fever’s heat gone, leaving you fragile, your skin cooling but slick with sweat. Bucky pulled his greatcoat over you both, shielding you from the cold, and held you, your head tucked under his chin. The lantern flickered, casting long shadows, and shame crept in, your voice small. 

“Was it… just the drug?” you asked, clutching the intel in your blouse, fear lacing your words. “Did I… make you?”

“No,” Bucky said, fierce, tilting your chin to meet his gaze. “It was us, I’ve loved you since Brooklyn, since that pier. The drug didn’t make me want you—I always did.” His voice cracked, and he kissed your forehead, steady. “You’re not broken. You’re mine.”

You nodded, tears spilling, but doubt lingered, Zola’s experiments haunting you. “I’m scared,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “What if they’ve changed me?”

“They haven’t,” he said, stroking your hair. “You’re still you, still the girl who cracked their codes, kept that intel through hell. I won’t let them touch you again.” His promise was fierce, but you felt the war’s weight, Hydra’s reach, and the shadow of what you’d uncovered.

Outside, Gabe’s voice cut through, soft but urgent. “Sarge, we’re clear. Ready to move.” The Commandos, loyal, unaware of the barn’s secrets, waited in the snow.

Bucky helped you sit, adjusting the greatcoat, his touch gentle. “We gotta go,” he said, voice low. “But I’m with you, every step.” He stood, pulling you up, and you leaned into him, steadier but haunted, the fever gone but the intel and emotional weight lingering. The barn door creaked open, moonlight spilling in, and Bucky led you out, his arm around you, ready to face the war—and Hydra’s lingering threat.

You followed Bucky back to the van. “Write to me?” You asked, locking a subtle finger with his, so that his men wouldn’t notice.

“Of course I will.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He didn’t care if anyone saw. The last thing he’d do was want to keep you a secret. He had dreamed of you, of this, since 1939.

“And after the war, you’ll find me on the pier at Coney Island, waiting for you.” You told him, an oath that you’d protect with your life. You didn’t want anyone other than him. You would wait for him, even if waiting meant forever.

“I’ll be there.” 

You believed him.

“You’ll come home, won’t you?” The question lingered with uncertainty and worry as the Winter Soldier intel burned in your pocket.

“Do I look like a man who’d keep my doll waiting?” Bucky smiled, his blue eyes twinkling like an aurora, full of love and hope. 

Yeah, you believed him.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

Taglist: @notreallythatlost @houseofaegon @bunnyfella @sunday-bug @wintrsoldrluvr @maryevm @mcira

If you want to be tagged in all my future Bucky/Sebastian works, let me know. <3

[yandere-sins]

What about darling who wants a baby with yan!nurse and yan! doctor 😍😍

Oh! How sweet of you to remember these two menaces! It's been a hot minute since we talked about them :D Thank you for requesting my two crazy medical staff!

Extra Warnings for Sexual Content, Abuse of Power, Medical Mistreatment/Malpractice, Pregnancy Topics, General Misconduct of medical professionals

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

❥ You are just such a ray of sunshine as you come into the office where the two of them are waiting for you, they immediately fall head over heels for you. Doctor is eagerly listening as you talk about your plan to get pregnant soon and how you want to make sure everything is fine with your body to take on the mother role. Meanwhile, Nurse is rubbing his back up and down, subtly conveying her desire to have you. They only need to share one glance to know that a baby sounds absolutely incredible, and here you are, so willing to participate in this relationship they are already planning with you.

❥ The pieces fall so perfectly in place, and the two are more than willing to give you all the blood tests and check-ups you want, plus some extra that are more in their interest than yours. After all, they want to ensure their lovely little mommy is healthy and ready to start a family with them! Having two professionals so invested and caring for you is really heart-warming, Nurse holding your hand every time you are uncomfortable and telling you how well you are doing, while Doc checks on you constantly while you are waiting for your test results, soothing your anxiety and even waiving additional costs so you can get all the tests. Before you leave, the two hand you a big bag full of the expensive medicine for preparation that they stole from the clinic's infirmary, together with handwritten notes and some recipes that should help... to not conceive a child.

❥ You might be touched by how much they are helping, but you are wrong to think they'd do it so you can get pregnant with just anyone. Definitely not! All their work is just so you feel comfortable enough to come back and ask for more tests (that they'll gladly make, especially the physical exams) because you seem unable to conceive no matter how hard you try. From the very first check-up, Doctor has been sowing a seed of doubt in you that it might be difficult. After all, there is a little something there that looks a bit suspicious. But no big deal, right? No worries, you will be fine! Try some more, and you'll be pregnant in no time. Once again, they send you off with more switched boxes of medicine and absolutely no chance of getting pregnant. At the same time, the two of them go shopping every day after their shift to buy stuff and prepare your and the little one's new room in their home. Babyproofing takes a lot of time, they'd know!

❥ Still, it breaks their heart when you return without success, crying your pretty eyes out. They don't want to make you sad, they really don't! And yet, Nurse can't hold back from smiling ear to ear as she comforts you, hugging and telling you everything will be okay, Doc patting your back as they grin at each other, satisfied that their plan is working out. You, of course, are still so well-mannered and sweet, apologizing over and over for your outburst, not knowing that it turned them on how well things are going and that Nurse now has to change out of the tear-soaked clothes quickly, keeping them to smell and fantasize about while they have a quicky in the breakroom. All while Doctor gives you a bonbon, telling you it'll help you lighten up. You pop it in, of course, trusting him even though he laced it with drugs that will make you a bit woozy but much more receptive to the methods he is going to suggest to make you pregnant.

❥ You tell him you're not feeling so good, but he simply continues to talk to you about inseminating you directly, much like all the alternative impregnation treatments you have heard about before. It sounds like he means with medical equipment but Nurse is grinning madly at the idea of getting to prepare you for the session with her tongue and fingers, knowing fully well there is only one tool Doc is going to use. They inform you about doing it regularly to have the best chances, and that they'll graciously waive the fees if only you sign this document, they have already prepared so that they can proceed with making the appointments. Clearly, you are not in your right mind, but it doesn't really matter to them, as you can't even read the contract you sign and how you practically bound yourself to the two you trusted completely.

❥ This time, they drive you home personally, making sure you are getting home safely. Nurse sits with you in the backseat, massaging your thighs, groping your body and indulging in the adorable sensitivity you have while being drowsy from the drugs. They get you into your bed, tugging you in, groping and touching you some more, each leaving you with a kiss and an alarm set for the next day. Doc makes sure you have all the appointment times with reminders in your phone, as well as checking out your pictures and messages while Nurse fills up your daily pills with more contraceptives. Then, the two of them really get to work, checking out your home and how you live so they can make their own home even more comfortable for you, taking pictures of everything, and ordering food to check out your watch list on TV. By the time they finally leave, they are riled up and excited for the new life that awaits you three; Doc and Nurse getting it on in the car before driving home for another round of "preparations" so they can make sure Doctor helps you get pregnant the next day.

❥ You wake up groggy and disorientated to the alarm set on your phone. There's some food in the fridge and a sweet note from Nurse explaining how they helped you home and telling you not to forget your appointment that day. Of course, you panic a little, not remembering anything after eating the bonbon. Still, in the hectic of getting ready and telling your partner to come to the clinic with you, you don't immediately feel suspicious about the circumstances of your blackout. There's no way you can be suspicious of the two kind medical professionals who greet you gushily, asking if you are okay and how you are feeling after exhausting yourself the day before. They are a little... colder to your partner, but hey! They usher you two into separate rooms so they can have the procedure done, and you are never alone in the process for even a moment, getting all the reassurance and excitement you need.

❥ It takes a while for your partner to do their part, but the two chat with you, explaining what they are doing and that everything is completely normal and professional, so you don't have to worry at all. You don't know that the water-downed version of sperm that Doctor produces isn't the one from your partner (that one is already in the trash and thrown out for good), but his own. It's not supposed to work immediately, so they lowered the chances of you getting pregnant right away. However, if it is meant to be, then so be it. You're not exactly prepared down there, so Doc makes an elaborate spiel of using his gloved fingers to open and adjust you so he can work efficiently. Shamefully, you feel the heat in your cheeks as he keeps massaging your sweet spot, making you wet despite all of this being strictly "professional". But in the end, it is done, and the two tell you how well you did before sending you home with the advice not to wear yourself out and come back for the check-up in a bit.

❥ They wave after you, only to start licking and enjoying your taste on Doc's fingers the second the door closes. Everything about you is so perfect, and they can't wait to see you round and glowing with the baby you three will raise. Nurse is begging Doc not to take too long, wishing for her darling and the baby to come home as soon as possible, but he tells her to be patient and that they need to enjoy the process as much as possible as he adjusts himself, barely able to hold back either. This kind of play happens twice more, although it breaks their heart to see you disappointed that it didn't work again. Each time, they make sure to reassure you and end up leaving you more restless and horny, especially since you're not allowed to have sex with your partner so the seed can "take root". But on the fourth time, finally, Doctor sighs after ordering some tests, telling you it seems like you hit a bump in the road and the "issue" he saw a few appointments before has now gotten more in the way than he thought.

❥ You are completely heartbroken hearing that you might not be able to get pregnant, not knowing better. Once again, it's Nurse who holds and comforts you, telling you everything will be okay as she looks at Doc and asks if they could try that. At this point, they've manipulated you enough to perk up despite your sobs, looking back and forth between the two. Doctor seems hesitant, weighing the options as you ask what they mean. What else is there that you could try? They know you are desperate—they made you this way—and they play the role so well of "I don't know if it's advisable" and "You'd need to be under pretty heavy anesthetic to endure it" but they never explain more about this apparent procedure. Not until you practically beg for them to do it. To help you no matter what and that you want that baby so much, you'd do everything. That's when they know they've won, and having you almost on your knees, looking up at them as if they're your saviors, only confirms the feelings they have for you.

❥ You're invited to their house for the procedure. They explain that it can't be done at the clinic since it's not something the clinic offers in services. But they have a private office in their home, and no one has to come with you either since they'll be there to take care of you. It feels somewhat wrong, but you trust them after all they've gone through with you, and they appear genuinely interested in trying to help you. They made sure to tell you it would be pretty costly. Still, it might be the only way to get you pregnant with your "condition", so you agree, bringing your savings in cash with you and stepping into their home upon arrival. It's a beautiful, luxurious building, and you are surprised at how homely it feels, almost as if you were in your own place. Immediately, Nurse tries to make you comfortable, offers you some tea to calm down and sits you on the couch so Doc can go through the proceedure with you. He's very vague about the details, but waves off most of it since you'll be under anesthesia most of the time anyway. It's strange and unreal, but you follow Nurse as she leads you to the office by the hand while Doctor follows quietly, ensuring all doors are closed behind you.

❥ Nurse helps you change while Doctor "prepares" himself. She claims he has done this countless times, and she is sure it will work for you, too. Then you are led to a medical examination chair, and chuckle nervously as Nurse restrains you to it. Some of those restraints are a little tight, and you tell her, but she assures you it's how it has to be so you don't fall off while unconscious. You relent, trying to calm yourself with deep breaths. It's not until Doc finally appears that you doubt this decision enough to want to stop. However, both of them are quick to wave off your nervosity, telling you that you'll wake up pregnant and it will be as if you were never gone. Before you can tell them clearly that you don't want to, Nurse pulls a mask over your nose and mouth, and a sweet-tasting gas assaults your senses, reminding you of the bonbon you had from Doctor before. The last thing you see is Doc unbuttoning his coat, skin peeking out beneath it, and then you're gone again, just like before.

❥ When you wake up much later, the large lamp of the operation room still beams down at you, and you shiver as you feel the cold chair at your back. Drowsily, you look down, your body rocking in a steady beat. You hear muffled moaning only for your senses to return as your body is forced into a violent orgasm, feet curling in their restraints as you cry out in pleasure and surprise. People cheer as you arch your back and jerk from your orgasm, and then the rhythmical rocking returns, more vigorously as you realize someone is pounding into you. You look up in shock at Doc fucking you, together with the slick tongue of Nurse licking up your slick and everything else drooling from your sex. All the clothes are discarded from all three of you as they mess you up, sweaty and grinning ecstatically. You have no idea how long they've been using your body or what else they did, but it isn't long until Doctor leans over you, his body shuddering as he pumps a load of jizz into you before he looks down, breathing heavily.

❥ "Someone's awake~" he announces, and Nurse jumps up from her position. "Oh, you cute thing!" she lilts, coming up to your head and kissing you passionately, tongues and tastes mingling while you struggle to get out of her hold. "Now you can finally join us! We've still got a lot more loads for you to make sure you're pregnant by the end of this!"

❥ As if prompted by her words, Doc begins picking up the pace again. This time, it's his mouth capturing yours before you can protest and exclaim your horror, the chair giving him all the freedom to trap you beneath him. You are assaulted like this for hours, the only breaks you get are so that Doctor can take care of Nurse's needy pussy by eating her out or fingering her while she plays with you. But his cum only goes to you, and they are thorough in this aspect. Meanwhile, you are forced to come to terms with your entrapment and how naive you had been to be so trusting of these psychos, all while you struggle in your restraints and beg them to stop this assault. But they keep their promise, making sure there is absolutely no chance of you not getting pregnant. And now, you are bound to them forever. ♥

[probablyintensemuses]

A-Z NSFW Alphabet

Armando Aretas

🎧- Girls Need Love: Summer Walker

summary: head cannon on what sex—a-z—is like with Armando

A: After care (what they’re like after sex)

I’m fully convinced that after you have sex, Armando cleans you off while telling you how well you took him. Then he sets a bath or shower, your preference, for you both. He likes to clean you off and sing you some more praises before you ultimately fall asleep in each others arms.

B: Body part (what’s their favorite body part)

I see Armando as an ass and back guy. There’s no doubt he’s in killer shape, so I think seeing a toned back and a fat, perky ass bouncing while he drills into you from behind, would definitely turn him on, only fueling the way he destroys your cunt.

C: Cum (where do they like to cum)

Armando cums literally anywhere you let him. On your face, in your pussy, on your back, on your stomach. Anywhere you tell him, he will

D: Dirty (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Armando once caught you using a vibrator and never told you. It was just something about the way you moaned and squirmed, touching yourself while you called out his name, that fueled his ego and lust for you.

E : Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Armando’s a drug dealer, there are desperate girls lying up just waiting for the chance at a good fuck with him. I think it goes without saying that he’s pretty experienced and has methods on making you cum each and every-time you fuck.

F: Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I think Armando likes some good ole’ missionary, except he likes to fold you like a pretzel, test the bounds of your flexibility, as he pounds and drills deep into you. He loves to not only hear your cries and moans but see them too, and in missionary, he really gets the best of both worlds.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

To Armando, there is nothing funny about getting the chance to fuck you and see you wither from his touch. I doubt he laughs in general, so sex would definitely be a no laughing matter.

H: Hair (how well groomed are they)

For the most part I think Armando is clean shaven. I didn’t see a spec of hair on his chest in the prison scene so I think when you pull down his pants, it’ll either be clean shaven or a slight buzz down there.

I: Intimacy (how intimate are they)

It depends, are you the love of his life, or a quick fuck? Love of his life? He’ll go above and beyond for you. A quick fuck? The most you’ll get out of his is an orgasm and one night in a five star hotel.

J : Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Armando has a high sex drive—I mean look at his father—so he’s definitely going to jack off, especially with the time he spends alone and in prison. He’d jerk off thinking of you, squeezing snd pumping his swollen cock in his fist until he cums.

K: Kink (what are their kinks)

Now as violent as Armando can get, I don’t think his kink would be anything that can hurt you. I think if anything, the lack of a stable family and community around him would make him desperate for a family of his own with the right woman. I think he’d have a breeding kink, always moaning and babbling about how he wants to cum deep inside of you, impregnating you to start a family. His favorite phrase to moan near his orgasm: “Hazme papá, mi amor.”

L: location (where do they like to fuck)

Armando will fuck you anywhere his cock starts to ache, needing to be inside you. It doesn’t matter where you too are, if he wants you, he’ll have you.

M : Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Armando has expensive taste. So he gets the most turned on when you’re sensually dressed in the lingerie he bought you, all dolled up for him. I think seeing you like that, doing mundane things like cooking and cleaning, will have him ready to explode.

No: No (what are some things they’re not doing to you)

I don’t think Armando’s doing anything that can hurt you. He doesn’t want you to fear him if he goes to far, then he’ll loose you and he can’t risk that.

O: Oral (do they give and receive oral)

Armando loves the taste or your pussy, and he loves how he can make you cum just by eating you out, he loves the power of gives him. He doesn’t always ask for it, but he loves when you go down on him and suck his cock with such ease. It’s glorious watching you choke and slob on his large member.

P: Pace (how fast or slow is sex)

This depends on Armando’s mood. If you’re fucking or having a quickie, he’s all about fast and tough, making you cum as quick and hard as he can. But if you’re making love, he will give you slow, powerful, and calculate strokes, making sure to hit your sweet spot every-time time he pushes into you while singing you praises and telling you your worth.

Q : Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Armando is always game for a quickie, but I don’t think he has them often. If he’s going to fuck you, he’s going to fuck you passion and purpose and quickie doesn’t give him the time to do what he truly wants to do to you.

R: Risk (how risky are they)

Armando’s a drug-dealing assassin, risk might as well be his middle name. He’s fucking you in the office, in the van, in the compound, outside in the woods, in an airplane bathroom, upstairs at a friends place. He’s an adrenaline junkie and some part of him gets off on the fact that you like the risk too.

S: Stamina (how long do they last)

Do you see his body? That man can last for hours if he has too. Round after round he won’t tap out until you do, and if that means being balls deep for hours, he’ll do that.

T: Toys (do they like toys? Do they use them?)

Armando won’t use toys on himself. And he doesn’t really like them, he’d rather his partner cum because of him and what can do. He’ll study every part of you and listen to your sexual language so that he can perform just what you need to make you cum harder than any toy could make you.

U: Unfair (how unfair are they when you fuck)

Armando loves to tease you, edging you and seeing how far he can push you for your release. He loves to stop fucking you just when you’re at the edge so that you’re begging for him just to stick the head of his cock back in and finish his job. Hell do this a few times because some insecure part of himself needs to know just how badly you need him.

V: Volume (how loud they are during sex)

Armando is definitely vocal. He grunts and moans as he takes your pussy with his cock. He praises you in Spanish and English for how well you take his cock. He wants to be heard by you and others, claiming you as his with his sounds.

W: Wild card ( a random head canon)

As dominant as he can be, I really do think he’s a munch. I think he could sit for hours just eating your pussy or doing as you ask him and following your orders. Whatever you tell him to do in the bedroom, that won’t hurt you, of course, he does it. And he does it with fucking pride. He’s your best eater and there’s no doubt about it.

X: X-ray (what’s going down underneath)

Marcus said it: “those Lowery genes are a bitch.” I’m thinking Armando is strapped. He’s about 7 1/2 inches and thick, a perfect size to stretch you out and give you a good, full fucking that’ll have you craving for more.

Y: Yearing (how high is their sex drive)

High. That’s all I’m going to say. High.

Z: Zzz (how fast to the fall asleep after sex)

I don’t think he sleeps right after. Armando definitely pulls you into his arms and watches you sleep against his chest. And once you’re sleep for a while with no waking, I think that’s when he’ll slowly start to doze off himself.

[scariusaquarius]

rehab. 2.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

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A/n: The first chapter was a bit short cause it was a test-run honestly, but I am planning on doing an outline for this story as well. I'm definitely neglecting my previous wips, but i don't have a lot of motivation for them right now. Hopefully, however, I will get to them soon!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

The characters may be ooc, but I did do my best. Please let me know how I did!

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Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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rehab masterlist. chapter 1.

The ride to Wakanda had been slow and uneventful and tense so far. While Steve had attempted to read the black book that had been beside the soldier's cryostasis pod, his attempts proved unsuccessful.

The whole book was written in Russian, which Steve wasn't versed in at all. So, it had been up to Bucky to look through the book despite his apprehension.

Just like with the red book that came with him, the book within his hands doubled as an instruction manual as well as a history of the soldier that was still sitting rigid behind him; unblinking and unmoving. The book didn't give her a name, which frustrated both Bucky and Steve, but wasn't surprising at all.

HYDRA didn't care for who the person was before they became a tool. All that mattered was who you were to them in the moment, what you could offer, what you did, and if you were valuable enough to keep under their watchful eyes.

To them, the woman was Winter Soldier #08, Subject #2018, which was a peculiar number that stood out to Bucky. Her activation words were different than his as well, as was expected, and he frowned at the words that seemed to take root within his mind and piqued his interest at what the possible connections between them and the soldier were.

Holiday. Cross. Shatter. Stimulation. Integrity. Sport. Axis. Assumption. North. Aurora Borealis.

They were so seemingly random that Bucky's mind was starting to hurt trying to tie together some type of story. While his activation words had an inkling of a connection to his life, these seemed almost benign.

Within the activation section, there were a couple of hastily-scribbled notes that detailed about the soldier's history of resistance and the methods that worked best for such occasions, preferred mission-types, experimentation documentation, and some key accounts of the soldier's missions that were note-worthy to HYDRA.

There was one note that stood out to Bucky, however, that had him on the edge of his seat and growing further uncomfortable as he read.

'NOTE: WS #08 is known to be hostile even after activation. Be prepared to meet resistance with severe punishment (Flagellation, Cattle Prod, and High Frequencies favored). Further reprogramming required to fix flaws.'

It wasn't too entirely unknown for a subject to be resistant. Bucky could recall times where he had resisted in moments where he remembered bits and pieces of his life before HYDRA stripped him of his humanity.

Despite what he had told his therapist and Steve, he still had nightmares about the punishments he received while he was the Winter Soldier.

No amount of time within the Mind Chair could ever erase the recollection of the sick things HYDRA did to him to make him listen and be obedient.

Bucky could still feel the hands on him in the moments his mind forced him to remember: the painful intrusions, the feeling of a whip against his back, fingers digging into his scalp and yanking his hair, voices yelling profanities and insults and sexual degradations as he was beaten, tortured, assaulted; whatever HYDRA wanted in those moments.

Taking a shaky breath, Bucky closed his eyes for a moment before Steve's voice had the arms on his hairs standing; forcing Bucky to jump out of his mind and back into the present as the Captain addressed him.

"Shouldn't be too long now before we arrive. Any luck on our guest?"

Bucky shook his head, murmuring softly as he glanced down at the book again.

"So far, nothing. There's a couple notes that say she's hostile before and after activation and some methods that prove successful in making her obedient, but that's mainly it. She's been involved in a lot of assassinations, espionage, a couple data breaches: the whole nine yards."

Steve pursed his lips, shaking his head as he sat back in his chair, staring down at the ground as he became lost in thought.

"If she's a highly-valued asset, then why did they leave her in the facility? Seems like she was pretty high on the ladder just to be left where she was."

Bucky and Steve slowly shared a look with each other before alarm bells began to go off in Bucky's head, and he spun around in time to catch the Soldier's wrist, a large knife within her hands. Steve looked shocked, grunting as he jumped back, and Bucky gripped their wrist hard.

The soldier glared at him before bringing her knee up, slamming into his stomach and forcing him to fall back into the control panel of the quinjet. Steve jumped into action then, calling desperately as he dodged a kick to the face.

"Please, we don't wish to hurt you-"

"-but we will if we have to."

Bucky seethed, Steve giving him an exasperated look. The woman didn't hesitate, throwing the knife at Steve as hard as they could. Steve ducked, his blue eyes widened as the knife embedded into the glass of the windshield; cracks webbing throughout the ruined blade.

During this moment, the Soldier turned her attention back to Bucky as he charged, throwing punches that she expertly dodged and ducked from, her fists punching hard into his ribs and face as he missed. The hits hurt like hell, his face contorting into pain before he swung with his left arm, hitting her in the side and throwing her into the wall.

The woman let out a grunt as she smacked into the side of the quinjet, and Bucky cursed loudly when she grabbed the strap of a supply crate and hurled it at him. As he flew back into the seat, Steve came rushing at her, throwing his shield and hitting her in the side of her knee once it ricocheted off of the wall.

The soldier yelled out in pain, crumpling slightly, and Steve immediately tackled her to the ground. The two of them smacked hard onto the metal flooring, and she punched Steve as hard as she could, the man letting out a hiss as pain bloomed within his cheek.

In that split second, she bucked her hips, her legs coming up to wrap around Steve's neck and forcefully slammed him onto the ground, his head smacking against the edge of a seat and disorienting him. The soldier was quick to scramble to her feet despite her wounded knee, and Bucky met her with a punch to her gut, making her double over and audibly retch.

He then grabbed her by the back of her neck, swinging her back and then forward into a seat a couple of times, her mask breaking off in the process, and she jumped up, using the wall for leverage as she swung herself onto Bucky's back, wrapping her arm around his neck to begin choking him.

Bucky grit his teeth, snarling as he reached behind him with his left arm, curling his metal fingers around her broken knee and squeezing as hard as he could.

Throughout her cries of pain, he could hear the sickly sound of bones shattering; could feel the way her skin and bones crushed beneath his grip, and Bucky was able to breathe again as her grip became loose.

He swung himself backwards into a wall, smacking her against it over and over until she finally let go of him, falling down onto the floor. Grabbing her wrists, Bucky called over his shoulder as he restrained her.

"You alright, Steve?"

"I'm just peachy."

He dropped down next to Bucky, wrapping electromagnetic cuffs onto her wrists before forcing her up and into a seat. The soldier's head was bowed, the cuffs smacking into the wall and jerking her body slightly, and Steve made sure to secure her legs as well.

Once she was properly restrained, Steve glanced at Bucky, noting the anger that was on his face; his jaw clenched and blood running down his temple. He was panting, his whole entire body tensed, and Steve took a few deep breaths as well before he turned back to the soldier.

"Seems like your bad feeling turned out to be right."

"We never should have done this."

Bucky's words were harsh, his blue eyes glaring at Steve as the man hissed out.

"I told you that there was going to be a problem, and there was. There's no hope for these people. They are programmed to kill and serve HYDRA and that is it."

"Even if there is no hope, we still need to try. We saved you, and we can save others."

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. There wasn't really any use in trying to fight Steve on this. Bucky understood that Steve came from a good place and had good intentions, but Bucky couldn't keep the anxiety and fear from filling him.

What if something happened? What if HYDRA had found him again and this was their plan all along? Bucky turned back to the woman as her head lifted, and both of the men seemed surprised at being able to see her face clearly.

There were horrific scars on the bottom half of her face that had been concealed by the mask; some of them raised and seemingly new while others were faded and old. Her bottom lip was cut, blood trickling down her chin, and her nose seemed to be broken as well.

Her (e/c) eyes were glaring at the two of them, a cut above her brow from Bucky slamming her into the wall, and Bucky looked taken back. Steve walked forward slightly, frowning.

"What is your mission?"

Her eyes flicked to Steve, her lips pursed, and she simply hissed out as menacingly as she could.

"Heil Hydra."

She sat back, and Bucky hissed out, a fire raging within his eyes as he snarled.

"Ответь на вопрос, солдат. Какова ваша миссия?"

There was no response. Instead, the soldier seemed to begin staring in front of them; becoming vacant and frozen again. Bucky huffed in frustration before he turned to Steve, shaking his head.

"If you still want to go through with this, you need to let Shuri and T'Challa know that she's hostile and active."

"I'll let them know. We're only a few minutes out."

Bucky nodded before he sat opposite of the soldier, muttering.

"I'll keep an eye on her."

Steve gave Bucky a weary look, an expression of apprehension and concern on his face, and he wiped away some blood that had trickled out of his nose.

"Alright. Are you okay?"

"Peachy."

Steve pursed his lips slightly before he walked to the front of the quinjet, immediately opening a communications line with T'Challa, and Bucky stared right at the soldier.

Despite the fact that she was looking at him, it seemed that she was mentally somewhere else. Blood was still running down her nose and chin, dripping onto the floor, and Bucky couldn't help but to clench his jaw as the sound of the dripping ripped into his memories.

Cloth over his face, a bright light from above, boiling hot water slowly burning his skin with every drop, he couldn't breathe. he can't breathe.

Breathe. Breathe. Let me breathe. Please. Let me breathe! LET ME BREATHE!

Bucky shook his head furiously, and he only felt bitter and disgusted by the amused look that seemed to flash within the woman's eyes. Clenching his fists, the man simply huffed as he listened to Steve talk with the King, the kingdom of Wakanda coming to view.

-TIMESKIP-

"What on earth would possess you to come to the notion that bringing an active Winter Soldier into my kingdom would be a good idea?"

T'Challa was not happy. As Steve and Bucky stood in front of the king, the Dora Milaje surrounding them with a tight grip on their spears at the information Steve had given T'Challa, the king was frowning deeply while Shuri stood next to him with a curious gaze. Steve looked apologetic while Bucky kept his arms crossed, biting his cheek as Steve spoke, the king glancing at Bucky all-the-while.

"I know this isn't really conventional-"

"-it is unacceptable! What you are asking for is not negotiable!"

Okoye was understandably angry as well, her eyes wide with fury as she took a step forward, and T'Challa hummed to her gently.

"Okoye."

The woman did not relent, simply squinting her gaze as Steve bowed his head in shame. Bucky clenched his jaw slightly, and T'Challa glanced at Steve.

"Your vision is noble, and I respect what you are trying to accomplish...but you are asking me to put my people at risk. It was different for Sergeant Barnes...but this...woman...is still under the complete control of HYDRA's programming."

Steve sighed slightly before he pleaded gently.

"I can watch over her...keep her from hurting anybody if something goes wrong. Stark wasn't willing because he doesn't have the technology to reverse the programming like you do, and Wanda is currently MIA."

T'Challa laughed slightly, shaking his head.

"The world will question where Captain America has gone. You cannot ignore your duties to promise something you cannot be sure that you can keep."

Shuri then piped up, suggesting with a shrug.

"Why not have Sergeant Barnes look after her? He has the most experience, after all."

"Absolutely not."

Bucky frowned deeply, shaking his head.

"I have to agree that this is a bad idea. I know that it was different for me, Steve, but that's the issue: I knew you. I had something to cling to...a name, memories and dreams...this woman is completely unknown."

Steve was beginning to look defeated, and Shuri's voice made everyone turn to her.

"If it makes a difference: I would be interested in working on restoring the woman's previous identity, but only if Sergeant Barnes will stay to watch over the process. My brother is right: The Avengers may be a team, but they need their Captain Colonizer to help in times of need."

"Shuri."

T'Challa's voice was stern, but Shuri and Okoye shared a look of amusement with each other before she hummed at the sight of Bucky's apprehensive expression.

"Your expertise on this matter will be beneficial, Sergeant Barnes. I'm afraid that Mr. Rogers will be of no help except for physical."

T'Challa rubbed his temples slightly, and Shuri offered, glancing at the king.

"If it brings you comfort, then I shall have Okoye and select members of the Dora Milaje to accompany as well. The soldier shall be put into cryostasis at all times except for observations and testing."

Steve looked hopeful, and he pleaded softly, T'Challa staring him down with apprehension.

"You have my full cooperation that if something goes wrong, then I will answer for it. I know that what I am asking for is dangerous, but she was a person too. This woman probably had a whole life before HYDRA took it away...just like they did with Bucky and your father."

Okoye bared her teeth slightly at the mention of the late king, and T'Challa shook his head, humming.

"There is no need to appeal to my sympathy. Shuri has made up her mind, and I have learned long ago that even if I do not agree, she will do what she pleases."

Shuri smirked slightly, joking as she patted his shoulder.

"I'm so glad you understand me."

All the while, Bucky was clenching his fists, hidden beneath his crossed arms. There was no way that this was going to go well, and though there was a part of Bucky that did understand and did agree with what Steve wanted to do, there was another part that understood how incredibly risky this was.

Take it from him: this woman was dangerous, especially since she seemed to still be active on pre-existing orders. It was even riskier given the fact that nobody knew what her orders actually were. Steve glanced over at Bucky as he stared at the ground, and he placed a careful hand on his shoulder.

"Buck, I know I'm asking a lot...but she needs somebody."

"She tried to put a knife through our heads, and you're saying that we owe her?"

Steve frowned, and Bucky couldn't stand to look at him in fear of seeing the disappointment. Feeling under pressure and on-the-spot, Bucky sighed and his shoulders sagged.

"Fine, I'll stay and help, but Steve, if something happens...this one is on you."

Steve looked relieved, and he thanked him quietly, saying as Shuri grinned while Okoye and T'Challa shared a stern look together before Okoye began to whisper to T'Challa quietly.

"I know, and I'm ready to accept that responsibility should it come to that. I just...someone's gotta be looking for her, Bucky."

Bucky just shook his head, muttering.

"We don't know how long HYDRA has had her, so there might not even be anybody to miss her."

"But she deserves a chance to be her own person just like you."

Bucky shared a look with Steve, staring at him for a moment before he groaned.

"I hate it when you do that shit. I already said I would help, I'm just...there's a lot that could go wrong."

Steve countered, nodding his head slightly as he rocked slightly on his heels.

"There's a lot that could go right too."

"Yeah, say that to the killer headache you're gonna have tomorrow."

Steve chuckled slightly, joking.

"Already there, but thanks for the concern."

"Whatever."

Shuri clapped her hands together, saying.

"Well, now that we've got this settled, shall we bring our honored guest into the lab?"

T'Challa hummed, his Black Panther suit appearing as the Dora Milaje immediately stood at the ready as Shuri stood a bit behind T'Challa.

"Be cautious. We don't know know what is going to happen once those doors open."

"No need. She's been completely restrained, there's no way she's gotten out."

Sure enough, when the door to the quinjet opened, the woman was still sitting rigid; staring at the opposite wall. Steve hummed, walking up the steps, and Bucky followed reluctantly.

"Welcome to Wakanda."

Steve said before picking her up by one of her arms, Bucky grabbed a firm hold of the other with his metal arm. With her feet dragging on the ground, it was apparent that she was not going to fight back.

However, that did not stop the Dora Milaje from pointing their spears at her as Steve and Bucky took her inside. As Shuri, T'Challa, and Okoye followed, Shuri voiced to T'Challa gently.

"I will take care in monitoring her behaviors and will let you know the second that I am given any indication that rehabilitation will be unsuccessful."

T'Challa hummed, a slight frown upon his face as he stared at the woman in front of him.

"No need to worry. Should something happen, I am ready to take the necessary steps to ensure the safety of Wakanda."

-

STORY NOTES: While on the way to Wakanda, Bucky and Steve have attempted to identify the woman by reading through the book that was accompanying her cryostasis pod. However, Bucky's efforts are fruitless. Instead, Bucky discovers the activation words associated with the Winter Soldier and other important details about the history of the soldier.

Reflecting on his time as a Winter Soldier, Bucky begins to become increasingly agitated and worried about the situation. Steve makes an observation on the peculiarity of HYDRA leaving behind a highly-regarded asset when the woman begins to engage the two super soldiers in combat.

Despite Bucky and Steve sustaining significant injuries, they are eventually able to subdue the Winter Soldier by Steve breaking her kneecap with his shield and Bucky further crushing it. Although they question the winter soldier, she becomes withdrawn and silent; refusing to answer any questions.

When they arrive to Wakanda, T'Challa, Shuri, and the Dora Milaje are waiting for them. T'Challa is upset by Steve bringing the seemingly-active Winter Soldier to Wakanda, voicing his concerns on her presence while Steve pleads his case.

Shuri makes a suggestion that Bucky should stay to watch over her because Steve has prior obligations to the Avengers. Bucky adamantly refuses, but Steve manages to convince Bucky to stay in Wakanda to not only protect the people, but to be there for the woman should Shuri's methods be successful.

Shuri then suggests to bring the Winter Soldier to her lab, and the two Avengers begin to escort her inside, T'Challa and the Dora Milaje ready to engage should the Winter Soldier try to fight. Shuri reassures T'Challa that she will alert him as soon as she possibly can if something goes wrong, and T'Challa reassures Shuri that if the Winter Soldier escapes and causes harm that he is willing to kill her to ensure the safety of Wakanda. End Scene.

TRANSLATIONS:

Ответь на вопрос, солдат. Какова ваша миссия? - Answer the question, soldier. What is your mission?

TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @tilldeathripsusapart

[rottenpumpkin13]

Consider Please; Cloud as Genesis's student.

Some things Cloud has to endure include:

• Unconventional training methods. Instead of using standard training dummies, Genesis insists Cloud spar with real people. Usually against their will "for realism." This often includes SOLDIERs who did not sign up for this. One time, Cloud landed a solid hit on Angeal who was just enjoying a sandwich at lunch, and Genesis treated it like Cloud had just graduated from university with honors.

• Morally questionable advice that has nothing to do with training. Genesis dispenses life lessons that sound profound but are usually crimes. Gems include: "Never buy cheap drugs." , "If you don't see the body, they're not dead" and "If you ever need to fake an emergency, scream 'FIRE' or 'SEPHIROTH'—whichever clears the room faster." (Cloud, unfortunately, tests this. It works.)

• Reckless use of magic. Cloud was once made to cast Sleep on Sephiroth mid-meeting. Genesis argued it was "for his own good, the man barely sleeps anyway."

• Encouraging Cloud to hit him. During training, Genesis constantly tells Cloud to actually try to hurt him. When Cloud finally does and knocks him flat, Genesis stares up at the ceiling for a full minute before getting up and pretending it didn't happen.

• After a particularly rough mission, Cloud hesitantly admits he doesn't feel cut out for SOLDIER. Instead of mocking him, Genesis sighs and tells him: "The greatest warriors have moments of uncertainty. The key is to keep moving forward, even when you're afraid." Cloud blinks, surprised by the genuine wisdom. And then: "Also, if you ever need to disappear for a while, I know a guy who can forge you a new identity and smuggle you into Wutai. Just saying."

[magic-shop-stories]

bts reaction to reader purposefully hiding an injury from them (mafia au)?

💌 Reply:

Ah, diving into the mafia AU angst pool again... I love it! 💜 Your request for BTS reacting to the reader purposefully hiding an injury? IT'S GENIOUS, thanks fot that!

NAMJOON

HOW YOU GOT HURT

You were sent to negotiate a weapons deal with a minor syndicate (Namjoon’s orders: “Observe, don’t engage”). But their leader recognized you as his weakness. Ambushed. A blade to your throat, a hissed threat: “Tell your boss to back off, or I’ll mail you to him in pieces.” You fought back, got a gash across your ribs for it.

You hid the injury for 6 hours, stitching it yourself in a gas station bathroom. But your phone died. By the time you limped back to his penthouse, blood had seeped through your shirt.

HOW NAMJOON FINDS OUT

Setting

he’s in his library

annotating Sun Tzu’s The Art of War

you stumble in

the scent of blood/ iron hits him first

Immediate Reaction

Physical

freezes mid-sentence

fountain pen snapping in his grip

ink bleeds across the page (like a Rorschach test)

Eyes

darken from warm amber to obsidian

jaw clenches so tight his molar almsot cracks

Voice

whispers, glacial

“Who.” 

not a question = a demand

Thoughts Flooding His Mind

“I miscalculated. I trusted their fear. I should’ve burned them first. She’s bleeding. My fault. My failure.”

IMMEDIATE REACTION (to you)

Action

crosses the room in three strides

grips your shoulders too tight

scans the injury like a malfunctioning equation

Dialogue

“Sit. Now.” 

already texting his surgeon

his hands don’t shake (they never shake)

Subtext

clinical touch

but his thumb brushes your pulse point (once)

checking if you’re real

HIS EMOTIONS / INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

Anger

not at you

at himself

“I built an empire on predicting chaos. How did I not see this?”

at the syndicate

“They touched what’s mine. They’ll learn the cost of ignorance.”

Fear

flashback to his mother’s death (gang crossfire when he was 15) (at least in my mafiaAU imagination)

“Not again. Never again.”

Guilt

when the surgeon arrives, he stands in the corner

cleaning his glasses obsessively

“I should’ve been there. I am there, in every move. Except hers.”

WHAT HE DOES (REVENGE ACT)

Phase 1: Intel

locks himself in his war room for 4 hours

maps the syndicate’s connections on a hologram grid

discovers their leader’s estranged daughter in Paris

“Ah. Leverage.”

Phase 2: Psychological Warfare

sends the daughter a vintage music box

(her mother’s, stolen from their old home)

note: “Your father misses you. Say goodbye.”

leaks their drug routes to Interpol

lets them flee straight into his men’s custody

Phase 3: Interrogation

Location

his underground vault

soundproofed

lined with first editions of Nietzsche and Kafka

Method

forces the leader to read your medical report aloud

“‘Laceration, 8cm depth.’ tell me, do you measure your failures so precisely?”

Finale

brands their foreheads with a quote from Thus Spoke Zarathustra: 

“Whoever fights monsters…”

Phase 4: Financial Annihilation

donates their assets to a charity in your name

texts you the receipt: 

“For your trouble.”

HOW TO WIN HIM BACK

Tension

he’s distant for weeks

assigns you a bodyguard (ex-KGB, mute, terrifying)

you find him at 3 AM

re-reading your injury report like a penitent hymn

Your Move

corner him in his library

press his palm to your healed scar

“You didn’t fail. I’m here. We’re here.”

His Breaking Point

slams his fist into the bookshelf

first edition Tolstoy tomes crash to the floor

“You don’t get it. I planned for everything, except losing you.”

Key Dialogue

You: “You’re not a god, Namjoon. Even strategists bleed.” Him: “Then let me bleed. But not you. Never you.” 

(Voice cracks on the last word)

Physical Reconciliation

crushes you to his chest

heartbeat erratic against your ear

“Stay. Let me… recalculate.”

KEY DIALOGUE (MAFIA!JOON EDITION)

to the syndicate leader: 

“You thought her my weakness? No. She’s the reason your death will be a footnote.”

to you, post-revenge: 

“I’d raze every city in this empire to keep you safe. Tell me to stop.” 

(he hopes you won’t)

whispered in the dark: 

“My mind is a weapon. But you you’re the hand that steadies it.”

BONUS DETAILS

Cigar Ritual

only smokes when planning vengeance

brand? “Monte Cristo”

nod to his literary rage

Glasses Tell

cleans them when overwhelmed

after your injury, he buys 7 spare pairs

Secret Softness

hires a chef to sneak banana milk into your meals

 “For calcium. Don’t argue.”

JIN

HOW YOU GOT HURT

Jin sent you undercover to infiltrate a rival family’s casino grand opening. You were posing as a blackjack dealer, but the Don’s son grew suspicious. To test your loyalty, he offered you a drink, poisoned champagne. You drank it to keep your cover, but the toxin burned through your system. You barely made it back to Jin’s penthouse before collapsing in the marble foyer.

You hid the poisoning for 2 hours, using antidote pills Jin gave you "just in case." But the pills were expired (he forgot to check). By the time you crawled to his doorstep, your lips were blue.

HOW JIN FINDS OUT

Setting

he’s hosting a “peace summit” with rival bosses

serving haute cuisine laced with mild sedatives

you stagger into the dining hall

clutching your stomach

room falls silent

Immediate Reaction

Physical

drops his wineglass.

shatters like a punchline

smile stays frozen

knuckles whiten around the steak knife

Eyes

gaze flicks from your trembling hands to the rival Don’s son

“Ah. This is why you RSVP’d late.”

Voice

laughs, sharp and honeyed

“Yah, jagiya, you’re ruining my soufflé’s grand entrance!”

Thoughts Flooding His Mind

“Expired pills. Expired. I’m a genius, huh? Should’ve poisoned myself instead. She’s cold. Why is she so cold?”

IMMEDIATE REACTION (to you)

Action

sweeps you into his arms

cradling you like a bride

murmurs: “Shh, I’ve got you,” 

kicks open the kitchen door

Dialogue

“Who’s the drama queen now, hm? Save the theatrics for my stage.”

his voice cracks

Subtext

blames himself

hands tremble as he presses a cloth soaked in milk thistle extract to your lips

(his homemade antidote)

HIS EMOTIONS / INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

Anger

at himself: 

“I’m supposed to be the protector. The funny one. How’s this funny?”

at the rival: 

“They poisoned my masterpiece. Time to return the favor—with garnish.”

Fear

flashback to a younger gang members death (close friend)

(food tampering, age 24)

“Not again. I’ll burn every kitchen in this city first.”

Guilt

forces his chef to taste-test every dish in front of you for a week

“See? Safe. Eat.”

WHAT HE DOES (REVENGE ACT)

Phase 1: Invitation

hosts a “reconciliation dinner” for the rival family

menu: “Apology Bouillabaisse” 

laced with aconite

Phase 2: Culinary Theater

serves the poisoned soup with a wink: 

“Bon appétit! Don’t worry, it’s to die for.”

as they choke, he plays their death rattles through the penthouse speakers

“Ambiance, right?”

Phase 3: Reputation Ruin

leaks their family recipes to Michelin critics

swaps sugar for salt

“Now the world knows your cooking sucks.”

sends their matriarch a sympathy bouquet with a note: 

“Roses for your loss. P.S.: Your son tasted bitter.”

Phase 4: Legacy Erasure

buys their casino and renames it “Jin’s Revenge Buffet.” 

free shrimp cocktails for anyone who spits on their logo

HOW TO WIN HIM BACK

Tension

he becomes suffocatingly overprotective

installs cameras in your bedroom

“For lighting! You look better in 4K.”

catch him staring at your antidote vial like it’s a cursed relic

Your Move

cook him jjajangmyeon

burnt, salty, inedible

force-feed him a bite

“See? I’m fine. Now you trust me.”

His Breaking Point

slams his fist on the table

porcelain shatters

“You think this is a joke? I could’ve lost you!” 

tears mix with black bean sauce

Key Dialogue

you: “You’re not just my boss. You’re my home. Let me protect you too.” him: “Home?”  he laughs wetly: “Then… redecorate. But no more poison-themed curtains.”

Physical Reconciliation

pulls you into a hug

face buried in your hair

“If you die, I’ll kill you. And then myself. Then we’ll be a rom-com.”

KEY DIALOGUE (MAFIA!JIN EDITION)

to the rival Don: 

“You tried to cook in my kitchen? Cute. Now burn in it.”

to you, post-revenge: 

“I’d starve the whole world if it meant keeping you fed. Eat.”

whispered while stitching your wound: 

“I’m Worldwide Handsome, not Worldwide Hero. But for you… I’ll try.”

BONUS DETAILS

Apron Code

wears a pink “Kiss the Chef” apron during hits

the back has a hidden dagger pocket

Dad Joke Defense

cracks jokes mid-interrogation

“Why did the gangster cross the road? To die!” 

(then shoots their kneecaps)

Secret Softness

learns your grandma’s recipes to cook for you

“What? It’s research. For… poison. Yeah.”

YOONGI

HOW THE YOU HURT

Yoongi tasked you with hacking a rival’s financial network. You succeeded, but stayed behind to erase traces, ignoring his order to “exit after the first firewall.” Their enforcers cornered you in the server room. A bullet grazed your thigh. You limped to a safehouse, sutured the wound with a USB cable and vodka, and hid it for days… until infection set in.

You passed out mid-debriefing in his underground studio. Your blood seeped onto his sheet music.

HOW YOONGI FINDS OUT

Setting

he’s composing a piece titled “Silent Retribution” when you collapse

scent of iron mixes with his sandalwood incense

Immediate Reaction

Physical

freezes mid-keystroke

hands hover over the piano like he’s been electrocuted

Eyes

darken from sleepy amber to black-hole void

“Fuck. Fuck.”

Voice

a rasp, deceptively calm

“Who.”

already pulling a scalpel from his desk

Thoughts Flooding His Mind

“I told her to leave. She never listens. Should’ve chained her to the piano. My fault. My fault.”

IMMEDIATE REACTION (to you)

Action

drags you onto his leather couch

cuts away your jeans with the scalpel

clinical, no hesitation

Dialogue

“Idiot. You’re lucky I hate wasted effort.” 

hands shake as he injects antibiotics

Subtext

hums Clair de Lune under his breath

the song he played at his mother’s funeral

steadying himself

HIS EMOTIONS / INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

Rage

at himself: 

“I’m supposed to be the fucking brain. How did I miss this?”

at the rivals: 

“They shot her. My code. My music. They’ll beg for silence.”

Fear

flashback to his mentor’s death (a botched hit when he was 19)

“I won’t lose her. Not like him. Never.”

Guilt

replays your last argument: 

“You’re not my keeper, Yoongi.”  “No. Just your curse.”

WHAT HE DOES (REVENGE ACT)

Phase 1: Digital Carnage

hacks the rival’s accounts

donating $10M to an animal shelter in their name

“Let the IRS sniff that.”

Phase 2: Symphony of Pain

kidnaps the shooter and his boss

chains them in his soundproof studio

Interrogation Method

forces them to listen to a 12-hour loop of Baby Shark at 200dB (yeah hate me for that)

“You like noise? Drown in it.”

Finale

brands their palms with sheet music for Dies Irae (Day of Wrath)

Phase 3: Poetic Justice

replaces their bullets with piano wire coils

sends their corpses back in grand piano crates

texts you a photo of their leader’s melted eardrums: 

“Track 7. Your lullaby.”

HOW TO WIN HIM BACK

Tension

avoids you for weeks

burns the bloodstained sheet music daily

find him asleep at his piano

head on the keys

gun in his lap

Your Move

play Clair de Lune on his piano (badly)

he wakes, scowling

“You’re murdering Debussy.”

His Breaking Point

slams the piano lid

“You don’t get it. I plan everything. But you... you’re a goddamn variable.”

Key Dialogue

you: “Variables keep you human, genius.” him: “Human?” 

he laughs bitterly

“I’m a weapon. Weapons don’t..."

kiss him

he melts 

“…Fuck.”

Physical Reconciliation

presses his forehead to yours

breath shaky

“Stay. Or I’ll… compose something worse.”

KEY DIALOGUE (MAFIA!YOONGI EDITION)

to the rivals: 

“You think pain is loud? I’ll show you silence.”

to you, stitching your wound: 

“You’re my magnum opus. Ruin yourself again, and I’ll erase the world.”

whispered against your hair: 

“I’d burn every piano on earth… but not the one you play.”

BONUS DETAILS

Piano Key Necklace

a gift from his mother

he wears it under his shirt

never takes it off

Coffee Ritual

brews you honey-vanilla lattes after nightmares

denies it

“It’s caffeine. Don’t cry.”

Secret Softness

writes your name in Braille on his bullets

“So they know who ended them.”

EXTRA SUPER SOFT ACT (CRUELTY’S CONTRADICTION) After burning the rival’s headquarters, he takes you to an abandoned music store. Plays Clair de Lune on a broken piano, lit by moonlight. “This is yours. The only thing I’ll never destroy.”

J-HOPE

HOW THE YOU GOT HURT

Hobi sent you to broker a deal with a "friendly" syndicate. Unbeknownst to him, they’d discovered his weakness for you. During negotiations, they offered a toast, spiked champagne disguised as peace. You drank it, only to collapse as their goons ambushed your convoy. A bullet grazed your temple. You escaped, but the neurotoxin left you temporarily blind.

You hid the blindness for hours, relying on muscle memory to drive back to his neon-lit nightclub. You stumbled into his VIP lounge, blood streaking your cheek like war paint.

HOW HOSEOK FINDS OUT

Setting

he’s hosting a “business meeting”

a traitor strapped to a chair

you stagger in

pupils dilated and unfocused

Immediate Reaction

Physical

drops his taser

his grin doesn’t falter = it sharpens

Eyes

glint like polished obsidian

“Oh? Did we crash the party early?”

Voice

singsong, icy

“Sweetheart, you’re dripping on my new rug.”

Thoughts Flooding His Mind

“They poisoned her. Poisoned. I’ll melt their teeth. I’ll... Focus. She’s shaking. Why is she shaking?”

IMMEDIATE REACTION (to you)

Action

catches you mid-collapse

fingers digging into your waist

forces eye drops laced with antidote into your eyes

“Blink. Now.”

Dialogue

“You’re lucky I like messy.”

his voice cracks on lucky

Subtext

hums “Chicken Noodle Soup” under his breath

his comfort song

HIS EMOTIONS / INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

Rage

at himself:

“I’m the planner. The smile. How did I miss this?”

at the syndicate: 

“They think poison is fun? Let’s play.”

Fear

flashback to his sister’s abduction (age 17)

“Not again. Never again.”

Guilt

replays your last conversation: 

“Trust me, Hobi.”  “I do. That’s the problem.”

WHAT HE DOES (REVENGE ACT)

Phase 1: Neon Nightmare

floods the syndicate’s warehouses with neon-green acid (his mafia signature color)

texts you a video: 

"All for you baby..."

Phase 2: Invitation

hosts a “charity gala” for their families

laces the champagne with drugs

livestreams their confessions to the dark web

Phase 3: Artful Annihilation

kidnaps the traitor’s leader

forces him to paint a mural of your face with blood and gold leaf

Finale

seals him inside the mural’s frame

“Art is eternal, right?”

Phase 4: Legacy Erasure

buys their nightclub

renames it “J-Hope’s Lullaby.” 

neon sign flickers: 

“CLOSED FOR ETERNITY.”

HOW TO WIN HIM BACK

Tension

he becomes hypervigilant

replaces your perfume with neroli oil  (he swears he can track by its smell)

find him staring at security feeds, muttering coordinates

Your Move

blindfold yourself

find him in his office by touch alone

“See? I trust you. Even in the dark.”

His Breaking Point

slams his fist on the desk

“Stop. Stop being brave. I’m not... I’m not worth it.”

Key Dialogue

you: “You’re not just my shield, Hobi. You’re my light.” him: “Light?” 

he laughs hollowly

“I’m a blacklight. I only show the stains.”

Physical Reconciliation

crushes you to his chest

heartbeat erratic

“If you die… I’ll forget how to breathe.”

KEY DIALOGUE (MAFIA!HOSEOK EDITION)

to the traitors: 

“You wanted a sparkle? Let me show you fire.”

to you, applying ointment: 

“You’re my equilibrium. Break again, and I’ll shatter the world.”

whispered in your ear: 

“I’d drown this city in neon… just to see you smile.”

BONUS DETAILS

Fashion Warfare

wears blood-red gloves during hits

the lining is silk

“For smooth exits.”

Coffee Code

leaves hazelnut lattes on your desk

denies it

“The barista’s obsessed with you.”

Secret Softness

built a panic room with plush blankets and your favorite manga

“For… tactical naps.”

JIMIN

HOW THE YOU GOT HURT

Jimin sent you to retrieve a stolen ledger from a rival’s yacht. You succeeded, but the heir recognized you as his “weakness.” As you fled, he slashed your arm with a jeweled dagger.“A gift for your prince.” You hid the injury, stitching it yourself as best as possible. By the time you returned to Jimin’s penthouse, sepsis had set in.

You collapsed in his rose garden, staining white petals crimson.

HOW JIMIN FINDS OUT

Setting

he’s hosting a masquerade ball for the city’s elite

you stumble into the ballroom

clutching your arm

orchestra screeches to a halt

Immediate Reaction

Physical

freezes mid-sip of champagne

smile stays perfect

his grip cracks the flute

shards glitter like tears

Eyes

darken from honey-sweet to void-black

“Darling, you’re dripping on my marble.”

Voice

airy, lethal

“Who let the rats in?”

Thoughts Flooding His Mind

“I’ll peel their skin. No, too quick. Slower. She’s pale. Too pale. Should’ve locked her here. Mine.”

IMMEDIATE REACTION (to you)

Action

Sweeps you into his arms

silk gloves soaked in your blood

carries you to his private suite

Dialogue

“Silly dove. Jewels are for wearing, not surgery.” 

voice wavers on dove

Subtext

hums Serendipity under his breath

the song he played on his piano the night he met you

HIS EMOTIONS / INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

Rage

at himself: 

“I’m the puppeteer. How did I lose control?”

at the rival: 

“They marked her. Marked her. I’ll erase their bloodline.”

Fear

flashback to his best friends assassination

(poisoned roses, ten years ago)

“Not her. Never her.”

Guilt

bans white roses from his estate

“Red suits you better.”

WHAT HE DOES (REVENGE ACT)

Phase 1: Invitation

sends the rival heir a golden dagger 

(the one that hurt you)

engraved: “For your last dance.”

Phase 2: Elegant Execution

Method

orders his men to drag the heir to a mirrored ballroom

forces him to waltz with a poisoned partner 

(slow-acting toxin)

livestreams it to the dark web

Finale

texts you a screenshot of the heir’s corpse mid-twirl: 

“Artistry, no?”

Phase 3: Legacy Erasure

burns the rival family’s vineyards

plants white roses in the ashes

“Blooms for my dove.”

Phase 4: Public Humiliation

leaks their financial crimes to their grandmother

“Granny dearest sends her regards.”

HOW TO WIN HIM BACK

Tension

he becomes icily distant

gifts you a diamond choker with a tracking device 

“For safety.” 

find him in his greenhouse

shredding roses with bare hands

Your Move

wear the choker to his next ball

whisper: “Chain me yourself next time.”

His Breaking Point

slams you against the wall

grip bruising

“You think this is a game? I could’ve lost you!” 

tears streak his cheeks

Key Dialogue

you: “You’re not a monster. You’re my haven.” him: “Haven?” 

he laughs bitterly

“Havens burn, darling.”

Physical Reconciliation

crushes his lips to yours

desperate

“Stay. Or I’ll… build a cage gilded enough to tempt you.”

KEY DIALOGUE (MAFIA!JIMIN EDITION)

to the rival heir: 

“You thought her my weakness? No. She’s the reason your death will be art.”

to you, cleaning your wound: 

“I’d drown the world in glitter… just to see it shine in your eyes.”

whispered at dawn: 

“You’re my first sin. And my last.”

BONUS DETAILS

Perfume Warfare

spritzes vanilla-musk on letters to rivals

“So they’ll smell me in their nightmares.”

Mirror Ritual

checks his reflection before hits

“Monsters should look the part.”

Secret Softness

learns sign language after noticing your hands tremble post-trauma

“So you’ll always… speak to me.”

EXTRA SUPER SOFT ACT (CRUELTY’S CONTRADICTION) After burning the rival’s estate, he rebuilds it as a glass conservatory filled with doves. Gives you the key: “No blood here. Just… us.”

TAEHYUNG

HOW YOU GOT HURT

Taehyung tasked you with retrieving a stolen Monet painting. During the heist, a rival’s trap backfired, a chandelier crashed down. You shoved Taehyung’s lieutenant out of the way, but a shard of crystal impaled your shoulder. You hid the injury, snapping the shard off and wrapping it with a silk scarf from the loot. By the time you returned to his gallery, you collapsed into a display of Venetian glass roses.

The scarf was Taehyung’s first gift to you. Blood soaked its embroidered initials: KTH.

HOW TAEHYUNG FINDS OUT

he’s hosting an “art auction” for laundering profits

you stumble into the gallery

clutching the bloody scarf

the room gasps

Immediate Reaction

Physical

drops his wineglass

it shatters

his grin widens unnaturally

“Darling, you’re upstaging the Monet.”

Eyes

pupils dilate

black swallowing amber

“Who… broke my masterpiece?”

Voice

soft, singsong

“Oops. Time to repaint.”

Thoughts Flooding His Mind

“My fault. Mine. Should’ve burned that gallery first. She’s pale. Too pale. I’ll paint the walls with their veins.”

IMMEDIATE REACTION (to you)

Action

lifts you onto the auction podium

ignoring the crowd

presses a jade dagger (his favorite) to your collarbone

“Hold still. This’ll sing.”

Dialogue

“You ruined my scarf. Now I’ll ruin them.” 

his hands tremble as he extracts the crystal

Subtext

hums Winter Bear under his breath

(AU!) the song he wrote after his father’s murder

HIS EMOTIONS / INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

Rage

at himself: 

“I’m the curator. I protect beauty. How did I fail?”

at the rivals: 

“They scarred her. I’ll turn their bones into art.”

Fear

flashback to his grandfather's death ((AU) stray bullet at an art show, he was 14)

“No..."

Guilt

shatters every mirror in his estate

“Reflections lie. She’s the only truth.”

WHAT HE DOES (REVENGE ACT)

Phase 1: Exhibition

kidnaps the rival’s family

forces them to recreate the Mone

with their blood as paint

Phase 2: Artistic Annihilation

Method

carves the rival’s logo into their leader’s chest

fills the wounds with molten gold

“Now it’s priceless.”

Finale

mails the sculpture to their matriarch

texts you: “New centerpiece?”

Phase 3: Legacy Erasure

burns their galleries

plants black dahlias in the ashes

“Beauty from rot, jagiya.”

Phase 4: Public Humiliation

leaks their forgeries to Interpol

“Picasso would weep.”

HOW TO WIN HIM BACK

Tension

he becomes a ghost

haunting his studio

find him smashing clay sculptures

muttering: “Ugly. All ugly.”

Your Move

recreate the Venetian glass roses he loves

leave one on his desk: 

“Still your muse?”

His Breaking Point

crushes the rose

cuts his palm

“Don’t. Don’t make me care. I’ll... I’ll break.”

Key Dialogue

you: “Break, then. I’ll mend you.” him: “Mend?” 

he laughs brokenly

“I’m shattered glass. You’ll bleed.”

Physical Reconciliation

traces your scar with his bloodied hand

“Next time… let the world burn. Just… stay.”

KEY DIALOGUE (MAFIA!TAE EDITION)

to the rivals: 

“You thought her fragile? No. She’s the fire that melts your gold.”

to you, stitching your wound: 

“I’d raze every museum… to build you a shrine.”

whispered at midnight: 

“You’re my magnum opus. Crack, and I’ll shatter the sky.”

BONUS DETAILS

Cologne Code

wears oud wood during hits

“Smells like… legacy.”

Artistic Outlet

sketches your face on enemy blueprints

“For focus.”

Secret Softness

collects vintage teddy bears for your panic room

“They’re… bulletproof. Obviously.”

JUNGKOOK

HOW YOU GOT HURT

Jungkook assigned you to guard a shipment of vintage motorcycles (his prized collection). A rival gang staged a “distraction”, a stray kitten mewling near the warehouse. You, ever the softie, went to rescue it. A rigged trap exploded, sending shrapnel into your leg. You hid the injury, using your belt as a tourniquet, and delivered the bikes… with blood pooling in the sidecar.

The kitten survived. You named it Tannie and tucked it into your jacket. Jungkook notices the blood after he coos over the cat.

HOW JUNGKOOK FINDS OUT

Setting

in his garage

polishing his Ducati

you limp in

Tannie pokes its head out, unharmed

Jungkook’s smile dies when he sees the crimson streak on your boot

Immediate Reaction

Physical

drops the rag

hands twitch like he wants to strangle the air

Eyes

dilate

flickering between feral black and wounded doe

“You… you’re bleeding.”

Voice

agrowl, low and guttural

“Who. Touched. You.”

Thoughts Flooding His Mind

“My fault. Mine. Should’ve been there. Should’ve smelled them. Stupid. Stupid.”

IMMEDIATE REACTION (to you)

Action

lifts you onto his bike seat

rips your pant leg open

presses a switchblade-heated rag to the wound

no flinch

Dialogue

“Don’t. Move.”

already revving his Ducati,

Tannie tucked in his hoodie pocket

Subtext

murmurs “good girl” to the kitten

won’t meet your eyes

HIS EMOTIONS / INTERNAL MONOLOGUE

Rage

at himself: 

“I’m the weapon. Weapons don’t fail. I failed.”

at the rivals: 

“They used a kitten. A fucking kitten. I’ll skin them alive.”

Fear

flashback to losing his childhood dog in a gang raid. 

“I'll fucking kill them all...”

Guilt

buys Tannie a diamond collar

“She’s… practice. For keeping things safe.”

WHAT HE DOES (REVENGE ACT)

Phase 1: Feral Hunt

tracks the rivals to a chop shop

lets Tannie loose to trip their alarms

“Distraction for a distraction.”

Phase 2: Brutal Efficiency

Method

uses a motorcycle chain to dismantle their leader

breaks bones in reverse order

toes to skull

Finale

leaves the body zip-tied to a “For Sale”

sign: “Free scrap.”

Phase 3: Psychological Warfare

steals their tires

replaces them with marbles

texts them: “Drive safe.”

floods their HQ with stray cats

“Meet your new bosses.”

Phase 4: Legacy Erasure

torches their garage

builds a cat sanctuary on the ashes

Tannie gets a gold plaque: “Head of Security.”

HOW TO WIN HIM BACK

Tension

he avoids you for days

bench-pressing obsessively

find him asleep in the garage

Tannie on his chest

knuckles raw and bleeding

Your Move

challenge him to a sparring match

let him pin you

“Still think I’m breakable?”

His Breaking Point

slams his fist into the mat (right next to your head)

“You are! You’re everything! And I... I’m just… this.” 

gestures to his bloodied hands

Key Dialogue

you: “You’re not just this. You’re my always.” him: “Always?” 

he scoffs

tears mixing with sweat

“Always is a lie. But for you… I’ll pretend.”

Physical Reconciliation

presses his forehead to yours

breath ragged

“Stay. Or I’ll… tie you to the Ducati.”

KEY DIALOGUE (MAFIA!KOOK EDITION)

to the rivals: 

“You hurt her? I’ll make you beg for hell.”

to you, cleaning your wound: 

“You’re my only soft spot. Don’t… blunt me.”

whispered to Tannie: 

“Protect her. Or I’ll… cry.”

BONUS DETAILS

Tattoo Tell

his ”ARMY” tattoo throbs when he’s angry

rubs it like a worry stone

Garage Ritual

builds a mini ARMY bomb replica to hang from his bike (but it's literally a bomb)

“For luck. Duh.”

Secret Softness

learns to knit

to make Tannie sweaters

denies it

“The cat did it.”

[reasonsforhope]

"The first new treatment for asthma attacks in 50 years has been tested by British scientists.

The injection is more effective than the current method of steroid tablets—reducing the need for further treatment by 30%, according to a new study.

Researchers say their findings could be “game-changing” for millions of people around the world with asthma and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD)—especially because the drug is already available on the market.

Asthma attacks and COPD flare-ups, also known as “eosinophilic exacerbations”, can be deadly—with dozens of people dying every day in the UK after experiencing serious symptom flare-ups, according to official figures.

These exacerbations include symptoms like wheezing, coughing, and chest tightness due to inflammation resulting from high amounts of eosinophils, a type of white blood cell—and they involve almost half of asthma attacks and up to 30% of COPD flare-ups.

Yet medical treatments have barely changed for over half a century, as steroid drugs remained the mainstay of medication.

The downside of steroids like prednisolone, which can reduce inflammation in the lungs, is that they have severe side-effects, such as diabetes and osteoporosis. The treatment also fails many patients who need repeated courses of steroids, or get worse and need hospitalization within 90 days.

Results from the recent clinical trial led by scientists from King’s College London revealed that a drug already available can be re-purposed in emergency settings to reduce the need for further treatment.

“This could be a game-changer for people with asthma and COPD,” said lead investigator Professor Mona Bafadhel, of King’s College.

The team studied Benralizamab, a monoclonal antibody that targets eosinophils to reduce lung inflammation, which is currently used for the treatment of severe asthma—and the trial found a single dose can be four times more effective when injected at the point of exacerbation compared to steroid tablets.

The study, which was published in The Lancet Respiratory Medicine, split people at high risk of an asthma or COPD attack into three groups. One group received benralizumab injection and dummy tablets, another received standard of care (prednisolone 30mg daily for five days) and dummy injection and the third group receiving both benralizumab injection and standard of care.

After 28 days, respiratory symptoms—like coughing, wheezing, and breathlessness—were reduced with benralizumab.

After 90 days, there were four times fewer people in the benralizumab group that failed treatment compared to standard of care with prednisolone.

Treatment with the benralizumab injection also led to fewer follow-up episodes that required seeing a doctor or going to a hospital. There was also an improvement in the quality of life for people with asthma and COPD.

“We’ve used the drug in a different way – at the point of an exacerbation – to show that it’s more effective than steroid tablets which is the only treatment currently available,” said Prof. Bafadhel.

“The big advance is the finding that targeted therapy works in asthma and COPD attacks.”

The researchers say the jab can potentially be administered safely at home, too.

“We hope these pivotal studies will change how asthma and COPD exacerbations are treated for the future, ultimately improving the health for over a billion people living with asthma and COPD across the world,” she added...

77-year-old patient Geoffrey Pointing, who took part of the study, called the injections “fantastic”.

“I didn’t get any side effects like I used to with the steroid tablets. I used to never sleep well the first night of taking steroids, but the first day on the study, I could sleep that first night, and I was able to carry on with my life without problems.”

“Honestly, when you’re having a flare up, you can hardly breathe. Anything that takes that away and gives you back a normal life is what you want.""

-via Good News Network, December 1, 2024

[bimboothefool]

Hi!! Can I request a yandere Emil and Ada x gn reader? Maybe how they met the reader, how will treat them if they ever abduct them, up to you!

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐇𝐂’𝐬

Oh Yes you may and I had to rewatch their introduction trailer just to get a good feel of their personalities. Hopefully you’ll enjoy these headcanons Anon! ^7^ 🩷 Happy Halloween to you all, hopefully this halloween was great and you got a bunch of treats or atleast had fun!!🎃🎉

Warning this story isn't suitable for an audience of 17 & younger.

This story contains the following subject matters: Drugging, Gaslighting, Possessive & Manipulative Behavior, Kidnapping, Brainwashing and Forced Marriage (???) If you click read more you've consented to reading this story.

- There’s two possibilities they’ll meet you, You’re either Ada’s coworker/psychology nurse or are a patient like Emil.

- If you’re Ada’s coworker, she’ll often observe how you behave, what your quirks are and overall take in as much info about you as possible.

- Ada falls in love with seeing how devoted you are to making sure the patients are comfortable and safe. Every time to obediently follow her orders or trial behind her, her heart skips a beat.

- She also takes into account how your relationship is with Emil, sometimes leaving him in your care as she quickly “attends” to other patients.

- Emil would at first be weary of you, but soon warms up to you. He’ll cling to you often wanting to lay his head on your shoulder or lap.

- Emil grips onto your hand, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. He craves your attention and affection.

- Emil falls in love with how gentle and kind you are to him. He’s been so deprived of it, finally getting it is like finding cold, crisp oasis in a cruel, hot desert.

- Ada seeing how well you take care of Emil, involves you in their escape plan. Basically feeding you half truths and getting you coaxed into this plan.

- If you don’t agree and stand your ground, she drugs you and takes you with her. Emil clings to your unconscious form immediately, hugging you close. Wanting your warmth as Ada drives.

- Now onto if you’re a patient like Emil, he’s pretty antisocial during his time at the asylum. Barely talking to anyone else, you showed him a sliver of kindness, he’s practically attached at the hip with you.

- Often seeking you out and asking where you are. Wherever you go, he follows right after you.

- Ada seeing this change in behavior does a bit of bargains with the higher ups and is soon assigned as your psychologist.

- She’s very intrigued on how you operate as well. Learning every intimate detail about you.

- Ada proposes the idea of taking you out of this place, proposing you’re better off with her than in here.

- She’ll again just kidnaps and drugs you if you say no.

- Now onto how they both treat you after you’re abducted for both scenarios.

- If you resisted, when you wake up, you’re tied up. Ada knows how clever you are and isn’t taking any chances. She knows that using a different method on you into making you love both her and Emil is her top priority along with helping Emil.

- “Don’t worry my love, soon you’ll see things our way. For now rest up.” Ada looks down at your restrained form.

- When the hypnosis results start to stagnate, she knows they’ve yielded incredible results. ‘ Maybe, just maybe they’ll work on you. ‘

- So now you’re apart of her tests, your backbone is forcibly ripped from you. Your autonomy is taken from you piece by piece.

- Emil helps out by constantly being beside you, seeking you out frequently and offering you comfort and security. Feeding you the idea that he nor Ada would never hurt you. They want you to be as free and happy as they are.

- After many tests, you finally crack and often needing to be close to Ada or Emil. If both they’re both around, the merrier your time is spent with them. You crave their attention at first. But slowly you needed their love.

- Ada and Emil’s love becomes your addiction, their kisses make your knees buckle, their embrace keeps you grounded and it all felt so right.

- The once loud voice screaming for you to run and hide, starts to get quieter and quieter. You don’t want to run from your beloveds. They’re your lovers, why would you run from them.

- Ada and Emil have shown you what true love is. They would never hurt you. Ada and Emil love you and you love them.

- If you went along and complied, Ada uses this to her advantage. Using Emil as a way to tempt you to not defy her. Emil isn’t innocent, he plays along and amplifies how he needs you too. Having without you, means he’s incomplete.

- With time it does its twisted job, you fall in love with Emil and soon Ada. You look forward to their kisses, the nights where you cuddle eachother.

- You all practically are each other’s entire world, you know even death won’t make neither of you part.

- This is true love, the pinnacle of pure, unconditional and unadulterated love.

- In both scenarios, when you all receive an invite. When both Ada and Emil, propose to you. Your heart is beating with sick joy. First a getaway from this life you’ve outgrown and now being engaged to the two people you clutch onto dearly.

- “Paradise… Here we come.” You smile with broken delight. You now have rings on both of your ring finger. This is the start of a new chapter, with your new wife and husband.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝

𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐨𝐧 | 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐬