#expect a mild delay in a response :)

[yazmarina]

in my drafts

for the love circuit series

—that message wasn't for you but paul doesn't mind as long as you don't, either.

paul aron (f2) x gn!social media admin reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex, lewd photography, office sex, fingering, creampie, accidental nude sending, mild dirty talk

a/n: sorry i disappeared again!!! pls take this as my apology

It was supposed to be just pictures of him during the break. You expected innocent, somewhat average snapshots of how Paul spent his past two months. You knew he took that trip to Italy, attended his sister's graduation, did some training. It was your job to be at least a little updated on the drivers' whereabouts, in case the head of comms needed you to capitalize on it for content.

So when you received a few photos from Paul through iMessage of all his fall whereabouts, you didn't think much of it. You messaged him a few days earlier asking if he could send a few more unreleased pictures that he hadn't posted on his personal account yet, stating that it was for a post you were putting together for the Hitech Instagram. He was delayed in his reply, as usual, but that's something you expected. He was busy, after all.

Perhaps too busy to notice the outlier in the stack of photos displayed in your message thread. Everything seemed to be normal at first; Italian architecture, gym photos, the cheesecake he made. Typical day in the life photos.

And lastly, a photo of him in dim lighting, taken in front of a mirror, with nothing but shadows covering most of his naked body.

You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Your first instinct is to wait to see if Paul has anything to say, an apology, maybe, or a half-assed excuse. Anything to indicate that he noticed how he sent you a full-on nude. You prepare yourself for the three dots that show he's typing, the frantic scramble to delete the photo from your exchange, but it never comes. Heat rises up your neck as you realize you're going to have to confront him about it. This was, after all, a professional exchange and you'd hate for HR to come knocking at either one of your doors.

-Paul, please review the photos you sent. Thanks.

You regret it as soon as you send it. Was that perhaps too snippy? Too callous? It was as embarrassing for him as it was for you, maybe even more. But come on, how hard is it to distinguish your nudes from your vacation photos?

The loud throb of your heartbeat reverberates in your ears as you wait, cursing under your breath as a full minute passes and then another. You lock your phone, getting up to pace around your room. You're most likely going to see him tomorrow as he'll be at HQ for sim work and other things and you just so happen to have a lineup of meetings at the very same time. You're going to have to face the fact that you'll have to look each other in the eye after you've seen the outline of his dick.

Wonderful.

You unlock your phone, resigning to just delete the photo from your side. You can claim plausible deniability or whatever legal term it is, if it comes down to it.

Just then, Paul starts typing.

You yelp, setting your phone down on the desk harder than intended.

You realize belatedly that you're holding your breath, fingers pressed into your mouth as if suppressing any more potential noises. He stops then starts again then stops, as if he's unsure of what he's typing out.

-I'M SO SORRY!!!! It was an accident I promise 🥹 Don't report me

-Please I'm so sorry it's totally my fault ______ 😭😭😭

-______ please I'm so sorry

Somehow, despite everything, this coaxes a chuckle out of you. Paul was always open and easy around you, and you know he knows you won't report him for an honest mistake. He's probably just red in the face right now, fighting his inner demons.

You type out a reply to ease his nerves.

-I'll just delete it off my phone so no one can say we were fraternizing inappropriately 🥲

The response from Paul is almost instant.

-YES please I'm sorry again

Your finger hovers over the photos when another message comes in.

-Unless you want to save it for a rainy day that's okay too

-I WAS JOKING its a joke I'm sorry I'm sorry

You groan, throwing your head back against the backrest of your office chair.

He's done this on occasion. Flirt. Compliment you on your hair, your outfit (despite it being the team uniform), your smile, even. You brushed it off as typical driver behavior. Nearly all of them had that kind of nerve about them, a confidence that only comes with driving cars that are closer to rockets than actual cars on the street.

Bringing the phone up to your face, you gingerly scroll back up to the photos Paul sent, opening the accursed photo. Your breath hitches as you take it in more carefully, the light cutting sharply between the shadows of whatever hotel room Paul was in. Your eyes trail down and your fingers pinch at the screen, zooming in.

"No! No, no, absolutely not," you admonish yourself, swiping the photo away and typing back a slightly crazed reply.

-Whoever that photo was meant for might not like it if I do

-

"________!"

You freeze on your way out the door from the conference room, Paul's figure jogging toward you from the other end of the hall. The presence of some execs and the head of comms looms from behind you and you quickly shuffle out of the way to let them pass, all of them greeting Paul as he sidles up to you.

"Hi!" You say a little too brightly, turning to Paul, arms coming up mechanically then stopping, your brain reminding you that a hug might be too awkward but standing around without greeting him in some way would be just as weird. A flurry of butterflies erupt in your stomach as Paul stops in front of you, his cologne coming off strong as always. Just the way you liked it.

"How's the meeting?" Paul asks, gesturing to the room. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he has that you've observed over the time you've worked with him. He has his hands shoved deep in his jeans, too.

You shrug, forcing out a laugh. "Same old, just going over social media plans and PR."

Paul nods, a little too eagerly perhaps. His eyes shift to the retreating personnel, all of them turning a corner, leaving you and Paul alone in the vicinity.

"Were you waiting for me?" You ask before he can say anything else.

Paul swallows. "Yeah. Look–"

"Paul," you cut him off, raising a hand between the two of you. "It's okay. It's no big deal. Happens to the best of us."

He raises an eyebrow at that. "Have you ever sent a nude to the wrong person before?"

Your cheeks flare up in a violent blush.

"Well, no. And keep your voice down," you berate lightly. Paul looks around and shrugs as if to say, 'Nobody's here'.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "But what I meant was, like, messages are sent to the wrong people all the time, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm, and besides, no one else knows. I promise I haven't told anyo–"

"Okay." It was Paul's turn to cut you off. "Okay, I believe you."

He smiles at you good-naturedly, opening his arms and coaxing you into a hug. It takes you a second, but eventually, you let yourself laugh in relief, wrapping your arms around his strong frame.

"I missed you over the break," Paul admits, pulling away and holding you at arm's length. You blush again, masking it with a chuckle.

"Well, the break isn't over yet. We still have three weeks to go," you remind, your own hands coming up to settle on Paul's outstretched arms, making it look as if you're holding him in place. To anyone who didn't know, you two would look like a couple deep in discussion.

"At least you get to see me more," Paul offers with an easy smile. nudging you lightly.

You scoff. "I think I've seen enough of you, thank you very much."

A heavy silence settles over the two of you as you realize what you just said. Paul lets his arms drop from where they held you, an apology ready at your lips but Paul gets to it first. He runs a hand through his unkempt hair, blonde strands tugged between his fingers.

"You haven't deleted it, have you?"

No, you haven't.

"I was going to, but I got distracted with other things." Not entirely a lie. You really meant to do so, but thoughts you'd rather not share took hold and there were matters you needed to attend to. Matters that could only be solved with your fingers and a vibrator.

You should feel guilty, getting off to a picture of a coworker that wasn't even meant to be sent to you in the first place. Maybe you're terrible, maybe you should be fired, sued by the Aron family.

Memories of you gasping out Paul's name in the quiet of your room come flooding back and you pray that Paul doesn't notice the irregularity in your breathing.

"I'll delete it now, in front of you, so you can see that I did," you offer, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Paul shakes his head, catching you by the wrist, his hand large and warm against your own skin.

"I mean if I was going to send it to anyone, it would have been you," Paul says lowly, as if afraid someone would hear him, despite the entire expanse of the hallway void of any people other than yourselves.

"Consensually, of course," Paul adds in a hurry, eyes widening. "If you wanted to receive them. It. Receive it."

Your eyebrows shoot up, your mouth curling into a smirk. "You have more you want to send?"

Paul's lower lip slips between his teeth and it seems the two of you are finally on the same page. You try to suppress the smile threatening to break out, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes.

"Until when are you staying here?" You ask casually. You didn't mean 'here' as HQ. Here as in, in town, close to you.

"Next week," Paul replies, stepping closer. "I won't see you until Qatar after that."

"Shame," you mutter, tilting your head as you meet his gaze once more.

"Maybe," Paul begins, slipping his hand into yours and twining your fingers together. "I can add one more thing to my break to-do list."

"Now?" You ask incredulously. Paul nods immediately.

"You know that one storage closet inside the sim room?" He asks, winking at you.

"What? Paul!" You whisper-shout, but he's already leading you down the hallway. The two of you make a sharp turn to the right where big blocky letters spell out 'SIMULATOR' on the large double doors of the sim room.

You squint, immediately plunged into darkness as the only source of light inside is the curved screen, dimmed as well as it sits on standby.

"What if your engineer walks in? Your teammate? Doesn't he have a session soon?" You continue to protest, even when Paul gently pushes you toward the storage room door at the very corner. He flings the door open and you see that it's filled mostly with spare sim components and monitors.

"Babe, that's why they call it a quickie," Paul reasons, flipping the light switch on inside. The lightbulb offers little respite in the darkness and shadows still play along the lines of Paul's face. He shuts the door behind him.

"It doesn't lock? Paul, I swear–"

You gasp but barely any sound comes out as Paul presses his lips to yours, hands settling on your hips. He maneuvers you toward a shelf, pushing you against it and pressing himself fully on you.

You can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

"Did you like it?" Paul asks as he breaks away for a second. He kisses your jaw, tracing its outline as you sigh, your head falling back. He takes his opportunity to kiss along the column of your neck, his tongue smoothing over your skin.

"Did you get off to it?" Paul asks again and your breath catches in your throat. It's as if he knew all the dirty, deplorable things you did over that one picture.

"I know you did," Paul concludes with a breathy laugh, reclaiming your lips and driving a knee between your legs. You groan in response, grinding against his thigh while your fingers tug at his belt.

Paul pulls away and takes over for you, undoing his jeans and slipping them down to his knees. You silently thank whatever god is listening for the fact that you so conveniently decided to wear those easy cotton office pants, slipping them off in one quick swoop along with your underwear.

"I'm tempted to get on my knees right now so I can eat you out," Paul teases, hiking your shirt up and exposing your chest.

A snide remark forms in your brain but it's cut off when you feel the cold press of fingers on your clit. You clamp a hand down on your mouth as Paul gently flicks at it, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Maybe later after work," Paul says, rubbing harder. Your elbow spasms at the sensation, hitting the shelf behind you.

"Ow, fuck," you curse, meeting Paul's eyes. You two burst into muffled laughter just as Paul slips a finger in.

"What happened to a quickie?" You demand, hips moving along with Paul's hand. He adds a second finger and you whine, fingers digging into Paul's shoulders.

"I have manners," Paul informs with an easy smile, face impossibly close to yours. You can see the shift in his bright blue eyes. "I need you wet and ready for me, no?"

You bite down on your lip, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Paul curls his fingers inside you. A shiver runs through you and you feel yourself clenching down and around his digits.

Paul retracts his hand, much to your dismay, but you don't get to complain before Paul kisses you again, rough and heated. His tongue dances against yours and you grip at his Hitech team kit for purchase.

"Bend over," Paul commands and you're more than happy to oblige, turning around to do just that.

You brace yourself against the shelf behind you, gripping at the wood as you lower the front of your body. Paul grabs your hips and your back arches almost automatically. You can feel him pressing up against you and you sneak a peek behind you to see Paul with his phone in hand.

"So I can 'accidentally' send you another one," Paul jests before slowly sinking in. You whine, head dropping down between your shoulders. The thought of him documenting your little tryst sends a shiver up your spine which only intensifies as Paul grabs one side of your hips. He sets up a hard, steady pace that has the shelf in front of you creaking.

"Paul," you gasp out, your whole body shuddering at the force of how hard he's fucking you.

Both of his hands grip at your sides now so you can assume his phone has been put away. You try to stay upright which proves challenging considering Paul is ramming into you ferociously.

Contradictory to it all, you feel the soft touch of fingers through your scalp, smoothing over your hair. In a moment's turn, your head is yanked back as Paul tugs at your hair, arching your back even more.

A garbled sound escapes you, part moan, part sob as the sting in your scalp shoots straight down to your core, pushing you ever so closer to your release.

"The social media person," Paul begins through gritted teeth. "Always so pretty behind the camera. Making me do trend after trend. I'd do anything for you, baby."

You mewl in response, reaching back to grip at Paul's wrist, pushing back against him, urging him to go faster. Paul gets the memo.

"Funny how that photo was taken only because I was about to jack off to the thought of you," Paul continues. "You sent me a message and I was missing that pretty face of yours so I went through your Instagram. Looks like you had fun in Mallorca, tiny swimsuit and all."

"Sorry, baby," Paul says close to your ear. "Couldn't help it."

"Inside," you plead. "P-Please, I'm close. N-Need you to cum inside me."

Paul merely grunts, letting go of your hair so he can pull you flush against him. His thrusts grow erratic, barely pulling out of you each time. He pulls you back to him, your back against his front as he bites down on your shoulder.

"Yes, yes, right there." Your voice comes out raspy, walls squeezing around Paul's throbbing cock. He reaches over and resumes his movements from a while ago on your clit and you yelp, hips spasming pathetically.

You cum with Paul deep inside you, his groans filling your ear as he follows soon after. He stills and pulls you even closer to him, arms encircling your torso. He kisses the spot where he had bitten you, pressing his lips almost reverently to the indented skin.

You're both breathing hard and you're perfectly content to stand around while the two of you gather your bearings. But Paul momentarily disentangles himself from you and reaches down. You see him pull his phone out from his jeans from where they've presumably fallen down to his ankles.

"Smile," Paul prompts, his lips planting a soft kiss behind your ear as he angles the camera toward the two of you.

He snaps a blurry photo, just in time to capture your hand coming up to rest against his cheek as he grins into your skin. Emboldened by the somewhat artsy, flirtatious nature of the photo, you turn around and land a proper kiss on Paul's lips, savoring each second his tongue passes over your mouth.

"Send all the photos you want," you whisper, smiling up at him.

"Or we could just take them together," Paul offers, kissing the tip of your nose.

[ophelia-writes-fics]

i like when you get mad (i guess i'm pretty glad that you're alone) [kilgrave x reader - 18+]

You're a dancer at a club, and your shift just took a weird turn.

Tags (please read!): fem!reader, degradation, some mild praise, spanking, oral sex, face-fucking, cum swallowing, penetration, choking, erotic asphyxiation, unsafe/unprotected sex, face slapping, clit slapping, masochism (reader), sadism (kilgrave), humiliation, biting, scratching, bruising, some minor blood, threats, condescension, painplay, pain kink, minor bondage, edging, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, mind control, mention of voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight dacryphilia, overstimulation, hair pulling, posessiveness

Word count: ~7.7k

CWs/TWs:

super dubious consent (reader likes him and consents to everything/is into the things they're doing without being compelled to, but some orders are given that can't be resisted and it's not pre-negotiated, so proceed with caution)

un-negotiated kink and unsafe choking/breathplay (i know you guys know but please don't choke anyone like this and please ask for consent in general but especially with kinks)

it's kilgrave. he's a walking red flag.

i'm not condoning anything irl, but this is fiction and i'm a kinky bitch, so i'm sexualizing this absolute maniac and i am having a lot of fun doing it lmao

You were leaning against the bar, scanning the crowd as you took your first shot of the shift. It was Friday night, with most of the crowd being well-dressed men who looked like they’d just finished with a long day of work, which meant you’d be going home with enough tips to pay your rent early. 

The most eager members of the crowd were seated near the stage, where your friend had them utterly captivated with an elaborate pole routine, so you began to search the back of the house for customers who might want something more private. A group of college girls already drunk off Red Bull and vodka, cheering and shouting compliments at the dancers with the kind of unbridled joy and solidarity that only drunk girls can summon…a man who’d clearly been dragged there by his friends, his eyes glued to his phone, his blush visible even in the dimly lit club…a bouncer pulling a particularly belligerent customer towards the door…

There. On the other side of the room was a tall, sharp-featured man in a dark purple suit, sitting alone, looking thoroughly bored with the performance onstage, glancing over at you every now and again with what appeared to be a look of interest. Perfect. 

You quickly ran a hand through your hair, took a deep breath, and plastered on your most winningly seductive smile before strolling towards him with as much ease as you could muster in six-inch stilettos. 

“Hello there, love,” you purred, leaning forward against the table he was seated at. “Is there anything I can do for you tonight?” 

You thought you’d gotten every possible response to that question before. You’d seen everything from polite rejection to aggressive groping to desperate requests for friendship or conversation, but what you’d never experienced and certainly weren’t expecting was a glance up and down your body followed by a discontented sigh and a slight frown, then a “Fine. You’ll do.” 

You opened your mouth to tell the stranger off, but before you could, he held up a finger to silence you, then leaned in closer. 

“Take me to your most secluded room. Don’t ask any questions, don’t stop to talk to anyone. Go.” 

Your head immediately began to spin. Your brain felt cloudy, as if someone had swept every thought from your mind and replaced them with a thick, impenetrable fog. Before you could try to shake the feeling away, your body was already moving, walking briskly towards the back of the club, seemingly completely independently of your own will. Get to a private room echoed over and over, clouding all the other thoughts that you were desperately trying to muster. You felt wrong, like a puppet with your limbs being jerked around by some unseen controller, no free will of your own to be found. No, not a puppet, your mind vaguely registered. A doll. 

You heard one of your friends calling you, asking something or maybe just saying hello, but when you tried to turn your head to respond, don’t stop to talk to anyone pierced your skull like a shard of ice, ringing in your ears like an intrusive thought. You didn’t stop walking even for a second. You didn’t even look at your friend. Something was very, very wrong. 

Your stomach was in knots by the time you got to an empty room, your heart racing against your ribcage like a trapped bird against a windowpane. You leaned against the wall, trying desperately to steady yourself as the strange man followed you inside. 

“Lock the door,” he ordered with a dismissive wave of his hand. The door was closed and bolted shut before you even realized you’d moved. 

You tried to say, or even think What did you do to me? But the same cold, cloudy pain overtook your head. Don’t ask questions. You shut your eyes tightly and clenched your fist as your body swayed, shaken by the unfamiliar sensation, feeling your breath grow shallow with panic. When your vision refocused, you stared at the stranger, who was tossing his suit jacket aside, reclined lazily on the couch like he hadn’t a care in the world. He fixed you with an annoyed look. 

“God, don’t grimace like that. The least you could do is give me a smile.”

Your face rearranged itself into the same winning, seductively charming smile you’d had on earlier, but you could tell that your eyes weren’t engaged. He didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he didn’t seem to have noticed your fear at all, grinning back at you like the devil himself. 

“That’s more like it. Now, kneel for me. Arms by your sides, hands in your lap, chin up. There you are.” His smile widened as he watched your body automatically follow his orders. 

He stood up and began to pace in a slow circle around you. You felt his dark eyes piercing you, evaluating you, examining your body for any minor flaw or imperfection, even though your vision remained fixed straight ahead and your smile remained in place. The carpet dug into your knees, your stiletto heels stabbing the backs of your thighs. But still, you knelt, unmoving and obedient as he stroked your hair like you were a well-behaved pet. 

It felt good, you thought, feeling a knot in your stomach form at the realization. He was incredibly handsome, with fingers as long and slender as the rest of him. You might have invited him back here on your own even if he hadn’t performed what you were growing more and more sure of was mind control. The thought made your blood run cold, but at the same time, you could still feel how red your face was under his gaze. 

Your pulse quickened as he moved back around to face you, still with that same analytical stare. His eyes lingered on your chest as he bent down slightly, moving his hand to caress the side of your face. His thumb brushed your lower lip, still frozen in place from where he had ordered you to smile. 

“Open your mouth,” he said, and you obeyed, with another rush of arousal immediately followed by shame. He pressed his finger against your tongue, eyebrows raising as you moaned at the touch. 

He pressed harder, still keeping his hand firmly on your jaw. “You like this, don’t you? Tell me the truth, don’t hold back.” His voice was low, his tone vaguely threatening in a way you couldn’t quite place.

You nodded, mouth still agape. Your face flushed at the eagerness of your response, the embarrassment at finding pleasure in being controlled so thoroughly sinking deeper and deeper into you. You’d never felt anything like it, and the adrenaline from the initial terror of being manipulated was quickly turning into an aphrodisiac when combined with your attraction to him. 

He scoffed - a short, mocking laugh. “My god,” he grinned, straightening up. “Then you can consider yourself a very, very lucky girl.” The swell of pride in your chest wasn’t at all hindered by the way his tone darkened; you couldn’t even tell if you were genuinely delighted at having impressed him or if you were just following his orders and “considering yourself lucky.” From the way your brain clouded over and the way your cunt tightened onto nothing, it might have been both. You groaned slightly at the feeling, then quickly bit down on your lip to try and suppress the sound. 

If he noticed, he gave no outward expression. Instead, he reclined back onto the couch, his legs falling open slightly, and he beckoned you forward with a wave of his hand. 

“Come here. You can kneel at my feet where you belong.” The way he said it was so light, so casual that you could tell he wasn’t trying to be dominant or turn you on. He just genuinely believed it. God, the ego on him. Still, you started to climb to your feet to walk over. 

However, before you could even stand all the way up, he raised a hand to stop you. “Ah-ah-ah. No, none of that. You can crawl. You look ridiculous walking around in those shoes anyway.” 

You collapsed back to your knees, cringing slightly at the bruises you knew you would have tomorrow as you crawled towards him. 

“Good girl, so you do know your place,” he said, his tone taking on a thick layer of condescension as he patted your head. “Tell me, how often do you sleep with your clients here?” He barely even looked at you as he asked, staring off into the distance as if you were boring him. 

“Never,” you replied immediately. 

“Never?” He raised his eyebrows, sparing you a quick, scrutinizing glance. “Then what exactly do you do in little rooms like these?” 

“Private stripteases. Lap dances. I let some touch me if they pay me enough,” you answered truthfully, realizing only after you’d spoken that he hadn’t ordered you to do so. You prayed silently that your answer was good enough. A voice in the back of your head questioned why you were so desperate for his approval, but it was quickly overcome by another wave of lust. 

Despite the work you did, it had been far, far too long since you’d been fucked, especially by a man as pretty as the one seated in front of you. And as much as you hated to admit it even to yourself, whatever power he had was one that you desperately wanted him to use on you. You’d never been so scared or so turned on in your life, and your deep masochistic streak was begging for more. 

The man snapped his thin fingers an inch away from your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. You blinked hard, realizing you hadn’t heard a single thing he said since you answered his last question. 

“Hey,” he reprimanded sharply, punctuated with a hard slap to the side of your face. “Snap out of it. God, what’s the point of sitting around here with you if you’re not even going to listen?” 

“No, wait, I’m sorry, I just—“ 

He cut you off with a disgusted roll of his eyes. “Don’t grovel. If you’re sorry, find a way to make it up to me.” 

You swallowed hard, nodding your head, mind racing. Your eyes flicked down to his lap, then back up to his face. 

“May I…well…I mean, would you like me to…” you stammered, mentally kicking yourself for how timid you sounded. 

“What? Spit it out,” he snapped. 

“Can I please suck your dick, please?” The request was out of your mouth before you even had time to process it. 

He laughed again, the same sharp mocking laugh he’d given you earlier, fixing you with a self-satisfied smile. “Oh, you really are desperate, aren’t you? Fine. Hurry up and start. Make it good.” 

Of course, you followed his orders. The ice-cold feeling that came with trying to resist felt entirely foreign to you now, and the brain fog that set over you whenever he gave a command barely had time to take hold before you obeyed. 

You started slowly, gently licking the tip of his dick before gradually working your way down, letting your mouth adjust to the length, pressing your tongue against him as you gently bobbed your head. 

While you were still struggling to take even half of his dick in your mouth, he roughly grabbed your hair, and without warning, shoved your head down to the base of his cock. 

You choked hard, tears immediately streaming down your face, but you couldn’t get even a second of relief with the way he held you firmly in place. You took a deep breath in through your nose, but the air was immediately knocked from your lungs as he pulled your head back, then shoved you back down, thrusting forcefully into the back of your throat. You gave a stifled cry and frantically grasped at his leg, trying to get leverage to break away, but you felt him slap your hand away before pinning it against the couch cushion. 

“You can take it. You want to impress me, don’t you? Stop struggling and let me fuck your throat.”

Your body went limp, all reflexes to break away and gasp for air vanishing in an instant. You could feel yourself choking, your face dripping with spit and tears, but you didn’t care. Both his hands were twisted in your hair, pulling hard, shoving your mouth onto his cock over and over again like you were a toy. You moaned desperately, half from pain and half from delirious pleasure. After what felt like ages, he ripped you away, forcing you to look into his dark eyes.

“Put some fucking effort into it,” he hissed, releasing your hair from his wrenching grasp. “Show me why I shouldn’t get rid of you right now.” 

You immediately set to work, taking as much of him as you could in your mouth and stroking what you couldn’t take with your right hand. You didn’t know what “getting rid of you” would entail. You didn’t doubt for a second that he could kill you. You felt briefly concerned that this didn’t turn you off in the slightest before your thoughts were pulled back to the task at hand. 

You sucked hard, running your tongue against the most sensitive places you knew of, gently teasing him, just enough to hopefully make him feel as desperate as you did. Your efforts were immediately rewarded with a low moan that became an almost feral growl, feeling him thrust upward involuntarily. You doubled down, relishing in every sound you could draw from him. 

He exhaled sharply when you pulled back, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock and flicking your tongue, tasting the pre-cum that dripped from him. He reached out, hand tangling in your hair again, but not quite as hard as before. 

“Right there,” he sighed, holding your head in place, eyes shut tightly. “Fuck, there you go, right there, just like that, harder…oh, god, what a good fucking girl you are…” As you felt him get closer and closer, listening to the way he moaned for you, you felt yourself grow hot all over, more and more desperate to feel him let go, to cum down your throat.

 You whined sharply, pushing even further, your body aching all over with unfulfilled desire. You took every single inch of him, swallowing hard around his cock, pressing your nose to his stomach, ignoring the way your throat tightened and instead focusing on how badly you wanted him, how terribly you wanted to impress him…

Your efforts paid off immediately when he forcibly pinned you where you were, grabbing your hair as he came with a rough, broken shout, his cum hitting the back of your throat. 

After what felt like ages, you felt him collapse backward against the couch cushions. You pulled away, quickly swallowing the mouthful you’d accumulated, then opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to show him how well you’d taken it. 

He softly laughed, peering at you with a slightly unfocused look before closing his eyes again, still on cloud nine, chest rising and falling quickly as the overwhelming pleasure slowly subsided. 

You leaned your head against his inner thigh, gazing up at him with a lovestruck stare. He looked so vulnerable like this, open and overwhelmed with all the sensations flooding him, a slight smile on his lips.

 A man with all the power in the world, everything he could ever want only a few words away, everyone wrapped around his little finger, and yet here he was, your head between his legs, absolutely radiant in the afterglow of his orgasm. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. 

He really is cute, you thought, even if he is terrifying. You examined his face carefully, taking in every detail — his sharp cheekbones, his thin nose, his dark eyelashes, the soft pink of his lips, the curve of his jawline and neck. There was something almost delicate about him, hidden by how deeply intimidating he was, and you hadn’t noticed it until now. He was just…well, he was just so pretty. There was just no other word for it, even now (or maybe especially now) that his sophisticated appearance was ruffled. His hair, once perfectly combed, was messy, a few dark strands falling into his eyes. His pristine suit was wrinkled, jacket long discarded, his tie partially undone, his shirtsleeves hastily rolled up, his belt and pants unfastened, and to top it all off, his gorgeous cock resting against his stomach, still half-hard. He was a fucking vision. You could have stared at him for ages. 

You gently tapped his leg to get his attention. “You know, I don’t actually think I caught your name,” you said, batting your eyelashes a bit. Your smile faded when you were met with a cold silence. He shook his head, straightening up and brushing his hair back into place. 

“You don’t need to know my name,” he snapped, all the bliss from a moment ago having vanished as he pushed you aside, readjusting his clothes. 

You sat back, thoroughly dejected. You had thought you’d done well. You wanted to make him feel good, and you had, but it wasn’t enough. You shouldn’t have felt like this about one of your clients, but you’d never met anyone else like him, and you wanted more. 

Your heart sped up as he reached for his jacket. Gathering his things meant he would leave, and an impulse deep inside you was yelling at you to do something. This wasn’t a job anymore, you needed him. He’d gotten you in the palm of his hand, desperate and wanting, and now that you had done what he wanted, he was acting like you were invisible. You weren’t going to let things go that easily. 

You pulled yourself up onto the couch, ignoring the ache in your knees and the pain on the backs of your thighs where your high heels had dug into your skin. Before he could react, you climbed onto his lap, facing him, arms around his shoulders. You’d never broken your “no kissing clients” rule, but that rule was the furthest thing from your mind as you leaned in for a kiss, pressing your lips firmly against his. 

With your eyes closed tightly, you barely even realized he had shoved you away until you landed on your back against the leather of the couch. Your eyes snapped open, finding the man standing before you, with a look on his face that was a mix of anger and bewilderment and something else you couldn’t quite place. He opened his mouth as if preparing to ask you something, but he closed it again, turning away from you. You bit your lip as he paced slowly, his hand over his eyes. Had you read the situation wrong? Was he ashamed that he’d come back here with you? Did he not like being kissed? Had you come on too strong? Was it over the line? 

Your heart skipped a beat as he stopped, focusing fully on you. You felt cornered, like a prey animal about to be devoured. He looked angry, vengeful, his already dark eyes completely devoid of light as he approached you. 

“Strip, then bend over the couch, facing the wall. Now.” 

Chills ran down your spine as you quickly undressed. You hadn’t been wearing much before, but naked, you felt completely exposed under his cold glare. You reluctantly turned away, the brain fog coming back like a tidal wave in response to your slight resistance, and you bent over, just like he’d told you to do. You could feel yourself shaking, terrified at the idea of what he would do to you, but with a hint of anticipation that kept you from falling off the edge into panic. 

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to ground yourself in the brief moments of silence, waiting for whatever would come next, but they shot open as soon as you felt the sharp, unmistakable shock of his belt whipping you across the backs of your thighs at full force. 

You cried out involuntarily, from shock and from the stinging, nearly unbearable pain. You hadn’t even had time to compose yourself when the second hit came, the pain intensifying as he struck the same place even harder. Your skin burned and you felt your eyes well up with tears, but you could feel the heat of arousal inside you growing, your masochistic side alight with pleasure. You wanted more. 

“Fuck!” you gasped as he landed a series of quick, searing lashes across your thighs and ass. Your nails dug into the couch as you bit your lip, trying to stifle a scream as the metal buckle whipped into your skin. Your head spun. It stung, so badly you could barely take it, but it felt fucking incredible, endorphins and adrenaline coursing through your body, making every sensation electric as he kept going, relentlessly striking you over and over again. 

You were granted a temporary reprieve when he leaned in close to your ear, running his fingernails down your back, hard enough that you knew there would be marks tomorrow. 

“Don’t even think about holding back,” he hissed, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “I want everyone outside this room to hear you scream for mercy, and I want everyone to know you’re not going to get it.” 

Immediately he resumed his punishment, the sound of the belt hitting you again and again echoing off the walls. Your body instinctively followed his orders and you felt yourself cry out involuntarily, a broken sound halfway between a gasp and a yell. You barely even registered it as your own voice. 

Thwack. 

A particularly brutal hit made you cry out, arching your back in a desperate attempt to ease the pain. 

“Fuck, please…” you begged, feeling like you were on the verge of fainting. 

“‘Please’ what?”

Thwack. 

Thwack. 

The ice cold feeling shot through your brain like a lightning strike. Beg for mercy. Scream for it. You desperately wanted to, but at the same time…

“Harder, fuck, please, harder!” 

The words were out of your mouth before you even realized you’d spoken them. Immediately, the room fell silent. You gasped for air, still reeling from the searing pain and the frigid ache of trying to resist him. 

He took hold of your hair without warning, yanking your head around to look at him. 

“Repeat that,” he snapped. 

“I— I want it harder,” you panted, trying to force your blurred vision to focus. 

A long, tense pause. 

“You like this.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes, god, yes.” 

“Of fucking course you do.” 

He grabbed you, turning you around forcefully so that you were facing him, then without warning, his hands were wrapped around your neck, so tightly that you couldn’t even take a moment to breathe in, your windpipe fully constricted.  

“I bet you like this too, don’t you?” he muttered through gritted teeth. 

You nodded desperately, as best you could with your neck being held firmly in place. 

“Listen to me,” he growled. “You live and die by my orders. You have no other purpose but to please me, do you understand? Just look at you. I could do anything to you and you would love it. You get off on being whipped, you get off on being choked half to death…I could beat you senseless and you would cum from it.” 

You moaned in ecstasy, but it came out as barely a whimper. You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, your vision going dark around the edges as his fingers dug into your neck. 

“I’m going to do whatever I want to you. That’s all you’re good for. Do you understand?”

You tried to answer, but you couldn’t move. Your head was pounding, your throat feeling like it was about to be crushed. You saw stars, multicolored lights popping in and out of your vision. The darkness around the edges was rapidly expanding, bleeding further and further into your line of sight until you couldn’t see at all. 

At the last possible moment, before you could feel yourself slip over the edge into unconsciousness, he let go, dropping your limp body and watching you gasp for air, coughing and retching as you struggled to breathe in after being deprived of oxygen for so long. 

“Pathetic,” he scoffed, glaring down at you like you were nothing more than dust. 

You lowered your head, thoroughly humiliated, pressing your forehead against your knees as you gulped in mouthful after mouthful of oxygen, mind racing. He could have killed you. He could have choked you to death without a second thought and you wouldn’t have been able to stop him, you told yourself, but still, in the deepest parts of your mind, the danger thrilled you. 

You needed him to touch you, to hurt you, to ruin you. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you, and the thought made your stomach ache with terror as much as it turned you on. 

He caressed your hair in a way that would have almost seemed tender if he hadn’t just strangled you half to death. You looked up slightly, and he tilted your chin up so you were face to face. He moved your head slightly to one side, then the other, examining you carefully, and smiled with a sick satisfaction. 

“You’ll have bruises on your neck for a week,” he praised with a slap to your cheek. You moaned softly at the impact, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling. 

He bent down, picking you up ever so slightly to rearrange your body in the position he wanted, laying you down and spreading your legs. You could see from your position how hard he was. Your pain had turned him on as much as it had done to you. 

You stared up at him as he admired his work, stroking his cock as he gazed at the bruises and welts and scratches he’d left on your skin.  

“Come here,” you pleaded, your voice still raw and hoarse from being choked, spreading your legs further. 

He was immediately on top of you, his thin hips pressed against yours, hands wrapped tightly around your wrists. “Don’t you dare give me orders,” he spat, but despite the venom behind it, you could tell from the way his hips rubbed against you that he was as desperate as you were. You felt his cock brush against your clit as he bit down hard on your neck, surely adding yet another bruise to the collection you’d accumulated. 

You bit your lip, wanting him to just stop teasing, to hurry up and fuck your brains out, but as you were considering whether or not to try and resist his don’t give orders command, you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance. You’d known it was big, your aching throat was doing an excellent job at reminding you of that, but you still couldn’t stifle a gasp at the feeling. It was just a whole different experience like this. 

The beautiful man above you gave you a look that sent chills down your spine. 

“You want it,” he whispered, leaning in so close he could have kissed you. 

You nodded eagerly, fixing him with a pleading gaze. You hadn’t needed the command in the slightest. 

“Beg.” 

“Please…” you whined, your nails digging into your palms as you clenched your hands into fists, struggling to keep still. “Please, please…”

“Not good enough. Beg harder.” You had no idea how he managed to sound thoroughly indifferent, even while he was this hard.

Your already racing heartbeat quickened. “Please, I’m begging you, fuck me, take me, ruin me, do anything you want to me, I —fuck— I need it, I need it so badly, please, I’ll do anything…”

That same sadistic, terrifying little smile crept across his face. “Anything?” 

“Yes, anything, just please, god, fuck me!” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, before roughly thrusting into you, as deep as he could possibly get, without giving you so much as a second to adjust. 

You couldn’t even try to hold back a scream, and he had the nerve to laugh in your face as he slapped his hand over your mouth. 

“Oh, careful, don’t shout like that! They’ll think I’m doing something horrible to you in here,” he grinned, punctuating his words with hard, deep strokes that hit every sensitive spot inside you. “It sounds like you’re in absolute agony. But we both know better than that, don’t we?”

He picked up the pace, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to fuck you deeper than you’d thought possible. 

“You know, I really thought that you’d put up a little more of a fight,” he continued, almost nonchalant despite the grin on his face and the vicious pounding he was giving your sensitive cunt. “I thought I’d have to order you to get off on the pain, or that I’d have to bash your pretty head against the wall to get you to listen. But I got lucky, didn’t I? I just happened to come across the most disgusting, most depraved little whore in the city, so eager and willing to listen, to take whatever I give you.” 

The hand that wasn’t keeping you quiet brushed against a sensitive spot on your inner thigh and you all but melted, whimpering with pleasure underneath him as he fucked you harder. 

“Oh, that’s it, let me hear you moan,” he said, throwing his head back with a growl, pulling his hand away from your mouth. “You don’t care who hears, do you? I bet you like it. I bet you love knowing that all your little friends and all your clients are hearing you get your pretty cunt ruined by a complete stranger, don’t you? You like them knowing that I hit you and choked you and you still let me fuck you like this. You just love that everyone knows that you get off on me hurting you, that everyone knows you’re just a desperate slut for pain.” He punctuated the last word with a hard, backhanded slap across your face. 

You nodded frantically, moaning your assent, hands grasping at his arms, holding on for dear life as he completely wrecked you. You felt him grin as he leaned in to bite your neck, his tongue darting over your sensitive skin as he did so. 

Your hand wandered, finding its way to his dark hair, and you couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingers through it, pulling ever so slightly, not wanting to risk his wrath again but unable to resist the temptation. Your eyes widened with surprise when he gasped and moaned, his teeth temporarily leaving your neck before he recovered and bit you again, much harder, this time on a sensitive spot just below your jaw that made you cry out. When he was satisfied with the mark he’d left, he broke away. 

“You know what would be fun?” he teased, his tone menacing as he roughly grabbed your breast. You shook your head, unable to take your eyes off him. “I’d just love to see what it would be like if you weren’t such an easy little slut.” He paused, running his hand up your body, admiring the marks he’d left with a self-satisfied look. 

“Put up a fight for me. That way, I can show you exactly how filthy whores like you deserve to be treated.” He sat up, his fingers clutching your hips so hard that you knew they’d leave even more bruises on your already aching body, never once faltering in his steady pace. 

You flew into action immediately, frantically trying to push him away, trying to kick hard enough to get him off of you, despite the fact that your body was still aching for more. He laughed, a quick cruel sound, almost surprised by how readily you threw yourself into the role of his struggling victim, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them down above your head without missing a beat, leaving you even more helpless than you already were. 

You moaned, feeling the way his dick throbbed inside you when you struggled harder, trying in vain to remove yourself from his grasp. Fucking sadist. You thrashed harder, your body still reflexively following his orders, but to no avail; he had you completely pinned in place. 

Almost without realizing you were doing so, you jerked your head upward, biting the exposed skin between his neck and shoulder and digging your teeth in hard, barely even noticing how fiercely you had latched onto him until you tasted blood. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, letting go of your wrists, hands immediately moving to grab your shoulders.  You let go with a sharp inhale the moment you realized what you’d done, horrified at your own actions. He roughly shoved you down, forcing your mouth away, still fucking you harder than you thought possible. 

“God, I should fucking kill you for that, I really, really should,” he growled. He turned his head slightly to look at the bite you’d left, scowling when he saw the blood beginning to seep into the collar of his shirt. He let go of one of your shoulders to grab your chin, forcing you to stare at the damage you’d caused. 

“Look at what you did,” he spat through gritted teeth, with a wild, almost manic look in his eyes. “You think you have the right to do that? The right to defile me like that after I’ve taken such good care of you? Answer me.” 

You bit your tongue, wanting to point out that ‘taking good care of you’ had involved beating you black and blue with a belt, choking you half to death with his dick, and then strangling you until you were nearly unconscious. Sure, you’d enjoyed all of it, but still. 

“Answer me,” he repeated, harsher this time. “Or I swear to god I’ll kill you.” 

“You told me to fight back!” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, pettiness entering your voice despite the murderous look in his eyes that made it very clear he had been expecting you to beg for forgiveness. 

He stopped moving completely. He was still all the way inside you, and you could barely stop yourself from grinding your hips against him to try and get yourself off, but you didn’t dare move. The hand that had been gripping your jaw released, moving upward to pat your cheek gently. 

“I did tell you to fight back, didn’t I?” He was mocking you, his tone sickly sweet and condescending, like you were a particularly petulant child that he was trying to discipline. Against your better judgment, or maybe just to see what he’d do about it, you nodded. 

Before you could even realize what was happening, you were in terrible pain, a pain that knocked the air out of your lungs, your eyes immediately streaming with tears from the impact. 

It took you a moment to process that he had just punched you in the face as hard as he possibly could. 

You instinctively doubled over, curling into a ball, body and mind reeling from the blow. Your ears were ringing, your vision clouded over. It felt like your brain had been shaken vigorously inside your skull, nausea welling up inside you at the sensation, all of it so severe you were afraid you might faint.

In your dazed state, you could barely absorb what he was saying to you, only catching snippets here and there: “...didn’t fucking tell you to ruin my shirt…going to show you…disgusting girls like you…”

You felt something being wrapped around your wrists as he manhandled you so that your arms were above your head. He’d bound you up with his tie, you realized, feeling the delicate silk against your aching skin. You opened your eyes as you felt his hands on your ankles, roughly pulling you so that you were lying with your legs spread for him. There was, you observed as your vision refocused, a decent bit of blood on the collar and shoulder of his shirt, a stain that you were positive would never come out. What a shame. Probably a designer shirt, too. Must have been expensive. 

You were shocked back into reality by him throwing your legs over his shoulders, bending you in half, once again filling your cunt with a hard thrust. Despite the pain still throbbing behind your eyes, which was slowly receding, you were still so, so desperate for him. You’d been close when he’d stopped, and in your hypersensitive state, you could feel your pleasure building rapidly, and before long you were writhing in his arms.

“Please, don’t stop, please,” you begged, barely even processing the words that were coming out of your own mouth. “I’m so close, I need it, please, please, I need to cum, don’t stop…”

“No,” he snapped, giving you a furious glare. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You don’t get to cum. I wouldn’t have let you cum even before you bit me like a rabid animal. What makes you think you deserve it now?” His last word broke off with an involuntary groan, his pace growing erratic in a way that told you he was close to a second orgasm. He inhaled sharply, collecting himself before doubling down. “Don’t cum. No matter how close you get, hold it. Do you hear me? Do. Not. Cum.”

Despite his orders, you felt your muscles begin to tighten, your pleasure mounting in a way that normally would have sent you over the edge, but nothing happened. You physically couldn’t cum. The feeling just kept building and building, far past what you thought was your breaking point, never stopping, overwhelming you to near-madness and never giving you a moment’s relief, and you bit your lip to stifle a scream. 

“Oh, don’t try to act all pitiful now,” he growled, punctuating it with a hard slap to your already oversensitive clit that made you cry out. “You know damn well that you earned this. And if you ever try to bite me like that again, I’ll make this permanent, do you hear me?”

Your eyes flew open, widening in terror. He couldn’t do that. Could he? 

The look on his face told you that he absolutely could. 

“Oh, it’d wear off eventually,” he purred, leaning in closer as if he were about to kiss you, his fingers just barely teasing your clit, his delicate touch unbearable in your hypersensitive state. “But I could tell you not to cum, over and over and over again, and you’d have no choice not to obey. I could keep you this close for days, weeks, months, maybe years if I wanted to, and drag you around with me like a needy little pet. I could order you to follow me around, to never leave my side. I could put you on a leash. I could parade you naked all over town, let everyone see how badly you want me, even with bruises and cuts all over you.” The thought sent a painful jolt of arousal through you, your legs shaking as you tried desperately to keep yourself from moaning at the idea. He grinned at you, making it very, very clear that you were doing a terrible job at hiding it. 

“Oh, of course that turns you on. Fucking depraved, aren’t you? Are you like this for everyone you meet, or do you just want me that badly?” 

You couldn’t form a concrete thought, let alone focus hard enough to give him an answer, but you knew his monstrous ego would love it if you could. You just wanted him that badly. 

His hand wrapped around your neck, not quite enough to choke you but hard enough so that you felt the marks from when he had. “God, who would have thought that this would be so fun? Beating and fucking a pathetic little thing like you, I barely had to order you to do a thing,” he teased, panting as he fucked you faster. “I’m going to cum inside you, and you’re going to like it. Beg for it. Do it. Now.” 

“Please,” You gasped for air, voice coming out as a choked whisper. You were in agony, every inch of your body burning with pain and anticipation and need for an orgasm that kept building and just wouldn’t happen. Burning hot tears were streaming down your face; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. “Please, do it, cum inside me, I don’t care what happens, I need it, just…” 

Your pleading broke off into a desperate wail as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. Even the gentle motion, combined with every other sensation you were feeling, was absolute torture, too much for you to bear. He grinned as you pulled away, trying to escape any more stimulation. 

“Oh, god, you look so damned pathetic…oh, god, fine, do it, cum for me, I want to see you break, just do it now--” His voice cracked, his hands desperately clutching at your hair as he came inside you with a desperate moan, feeling you tighten around him, burying his face in the crook of your neck.  

Your body went completely rigid at his command and you came hard, the feeling so intense that it felt like your skin was burning all over. You were vaguely aware that you were thanking him, over and over, unable to control the words coming out of your mouth. He silenced you with a forceful kiss, the first one he’d given you all night, and you melted into his touch, thoroughly overwhelmed. 

You felt his hips twitch, still riding out the last of his orgasm as you deliriously wrapped yourself around him, clinging on for dear life, moaning with ecstasy. 

Finally, he broke away from the kiss, and your body fell limp, overstimulated past your breaking point, so much so that you vaguely wondered how you were still conscious. Your legs dropped from where he had propped them on his shoulders and you lay there, trembling like a leaf, feeling the warmth of his cum inside you. 

When you finally collected yourself enough to see straight, you worked your wrists out of the now-loose binding of his tie, then raised your head to look at the man still lying on top of you. His head had dropped onto your chest, his eyes closed. He looked so still and gentle that you wondered if he was asleep.

You reached down, stroking his hair gently with shaking hands, remembering how much he’d liked it before. You wanted to have this little moment of vulnerability with him before he went all cold and ruthless again. He sighed, pressing himself further into your bare chest and wrapping his arms around you. You couldn’t hold back a smile as pride swelled inside you. You felt like you’d tamed some kind of monster, and really, you thought to yourself, you had. You could practically feel the bliss radiating off of him along with the warmth of his skin against yours. 

You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling as you gathered yourself. You were sore all over. Your muscles burned from how tight they’d been for so long, your throat ached when you swallowed, and you still had a pounding headache from the punch to your face and the way he’d choked you. Your body had already begun to bruise, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“It’s Kilgrave.” 

You looked up, vision still slightly clouded with pleasure. “Hmm?” His face was turned away, expression hidden. 

“My name. Kilgrave.” 

You grinned harder. You’d won.

“It’s pretty,” you giggled, giving his hair a playful ruffle. 

He quickly smacked your hand away, sitting up and pulling out of you with a scoff. Ah. There he was. 

“Shut up. Don’t even think about it.” 

“What?”

“You know what,” he snapped, reaching for his jacket. “Don’t play innocent now, especially not when you look like that.” 

You glanced down at your body. He had absolutely wrecked you, but your smile never faded as you looked back at him. 

He rolled his eyes, but there was no venom behind it, or at least none that you could detect. “Filthy little thing,” he muttered, re-buttoning his shirt. 

You sat up, stretching your sore muscles as he composed himself quickly. You were amazed at how he could go from looking absolutely delirious with pleasure one moment to looking like this the next, all put together and polished as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. 

“And where are you off to?” you said, glancing around the room, trying to find where he had tossed your clothes after you’d taken them off. 

“You don’t need to know that.” He walked quickly towards the door, but paused as he realized that you were still looking at him. He sighed with frustration, but still turned around to look back at you. 

“I’ll be back next week, if I decide you’re good enough for me to use again. In the meantime, don’t even think about opening your legs for anyone else, do you understand? I don’t want you catching anything and giving it to me.” His tone was bitter, but you could still sense something almost fond behind his words. “Now, once I leave, you’ll wait five minutes, then go out there and put on the best show of your life for all those sad desperate men out there, with my cum dripping down your thighs. Understand?” 

Ah, you realized. Not fondness. Possessiveness. Even better. You nodded, barely managing to suppress another proud grin. He gave you what you assumed was supposed to be a contemptful look before turning again to leave, but he might as well have given you a kiss on the forehead with how good it made you feel.

“Bye, Kilgrave,” you called as he left, giving him a playful wave. 

He looked back. He didn’t answer, but the facade slipped for just a moment as he blew you a quick kiss, and then he was gone, grinning like a man who had all the power in the world as he closed the door behind him. 

A/N: this is the first part of a series! if there's enough interest, i'll post the next parts :) Like, rb, and/or follow if you enjoyed, and thank you so much for reading!

[skaruresonic]

Lakeside

Lakeside - Chapter 1 - benignmilitancy - Silent Hill (Video Game Series) [Archive of Our Own]

Fandom: Silent Hill Characters: James Sunderland; Douglas Cartland; Heather Mason; Paul Scheible (Homecoming) Relationships: Douglas Cartland & James Sunderland (platonic); Douglas Cartland & Heather Mason (platonic) Genre: Angst; mystery; psychological horror; partial epistolary POV: Third-person present (alternates between James, Douglas, and memos)

Content warnings: Blood

Summary:

James Sunderland doesn't remember why he'd driven his car into the lake. He can't explain why he was rescued, or what led to his decision, but he clings to the hope that someone will help him piece it together before hell freezes over. Douglas Cartland swore he'd never set foot in that godforsaken town again. That vow gets tested when Toluca Lake begins freezing in the middle of summer, against all logic and reason, and resurrects the drowned man he'd given up for dead.

Or, "Nature is healing. Hell is freezing over."

Prologue.

"What you see behind me isn't water. It's frost.

"Late yesterday afternoon in the town of Silent Hill, fisherman Joseph Wylam was angling near this spot over Toluca Lake when his boat capsized, its bow torn on a treacherous patch of rock.

"Wylam climbed a safety raft and tried to paddle his way to shore. However, when he lowered himself into the water, it wasn't the mild fifty-two degrees as is the average median temperature around this time of year, but a startling eight degrees Fahrenheit.

"Wylam suffered immediate shock and would have drowned had it not been for the intervention of his boating partner. Unfortunately, this wasn't enough to save him, as he later passed at Kindred Hospital of complications brought on by aggravated hypothermia. Wylam was fifty-six years old at the time and had no known next-of-kin. The partner, who prefers to remain anonymous, is expected to be discharged with a clean bill of health.

"Today, a light sheen of frost has laid across the entire lake surface, and is solidifying even as I speak with no apparent signs of stopping. As you can see, various forms of wildlife have fled the area.

"To say this is bizarre is an understatement, baffled locals claim. Researchers brought in to study Toluca Lake have called it the strangest phenomenon they've witnessed in years. Although they cannot yet determine why, they hypothesize the rock that overturned Wylam's boat may have been, in fact, a detached ice floe.

"We'll bring you more details as this investigation continues."

---

James Sunderland, who was declared missing along with his wife Mary in June of 1994, shivers in the thick vapor blanket paramedics have draped over his shoulders. The lake's sediment and composite minerals have bleached his hair a sickly bluish green.

Moisture caresses his grayed flesh. He's sat in the water for so long that most of his clothes have unraveled at the seams. His right jacket sleeve curls on the ground beside him, dwelling in the puddle he grows with the droplets he sheds.

They're attempting to pry the shell of a broken boat from an old vehicle. James watches machinery crack open the crushed and sodden remains of a teal Chrysler, watches flotsam spill over the pavement in a wash of decay, and asks whose car that is.

Yours, Mr. Sunderland.

James blinks, readjusting his swollen eyes to sunlight. Liquid overflows and runs down his gaunt, wrinkled cheeks, pinkened by blood.

I don't remember.

An EMT pulls down his lower eyelid, shining a beam directly into his socket. The iris takes a moment to get fixated, and the pupil's dilation response time is rather delayed.

What day is it? James asks.

Tuesday.

He nods, as if the answer holds some meaning.

One paramedic nudges the other. We've got to get this man to a hospital.

It's 2002. Commute thins as the roads wind through the hills. The firs surrounding the neighboring valleys sweep low, burying their roots deep within the slopes.

For a town whose reputation hinges on misfortune, this morning proves an extraordinarily rare and beautiful exception. Clear skies shine while local flora bursts with the green blossom of summer.

No mist radiates from Toluca Lake; today it resembles a placid mirror, reflecting the passing houses and various boats drifting on its surface. Police cruisers keep sentry for miles along its circumference, where officers standing before fluttering tape deny access to disappointed tourists.

The town basks in August beauty while ice creeps and crackles over the surface of the lake.

---

"Since yesterday, more floes have emerged, bewildering residents and investigators alike.

"Despite the torrid weather, a thin sheet of ice has completely covered the lake and appears to be expanding outward, reaching an estimated speed of 0.48 inches per hour. Where this ice came from, and why it has started a push, remain to be seen. Right now, those who live close to the shore are urged to evacuate inland until the state withdraws its declaration of emergency.

"The invasion appears to show no signs of slowing down. Here at Rosewater Park, brickwork and parts of the observation deck have already been claimed by ice. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to keep my balance on the slick ground, and you can feel the rapid plunge in temperature the closer you approach.

"All traffic to and from Silent Hill has been gridlocked for the time being."

[black-bentley]

Find The Word

Thanks to @california-112 for the tag!

Rules: Share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the words in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word).

The words I'm working with are button, real, likely and watch.

The words I'm passing on are quick, leg, blink and wait!

These are all Biggles, natch, and none of them have titles so they will be swathed in mystique...

Button

In which Algy reappears after going missing for a couple of days.

"He'll be all right," said Biggles reassuringly. "Got off lightly, all things considered. Three broken ribs, two black eyes, one busted nose, and a—"

"Partridge in a pear tree?" offered Bertie.

"I was going to say, 'a mild concussion'. You can both go in and see him now, I was just coming out to fetch you."

When they entered the room, Algy was sitting up in bed and looking surprisingly cheerful. Despite all the worry and the self-recrimination of the past two days, Ginger felt a relieved grin break out on his face at the sight. Algy had, as Biggles had said, deep purple bruising around both eyes and across the swollen bridge of his nose, as well as a scrape on his forehead and a badly split lower lip. Ginger could just see the edge of a bandage above the buttons of his pyjama jacket.

Real

AU fic, where Ginger doesn't meet Biggles or Algy until he's posted to 666 in 1940.

Because it was a shame, really, that his new flight commander had turned out to be such a posh twat. He'd remembered while he was sorting out his appearance how he knew the name: this would be Algy Lacey, Biggles's business partner and co-pilot in their globe-trotting years between this war and the last. Thwarting smugglers and chasing down jewel thieves, real Boy's Own Paper stuff. There was probably still a dusty box of newspaper cuttings at Ginger's parents' house, if his father hadn't thrown it out. Based on that, he'd been expecting a man in a similar mould to the skipper; they were cousins of some kind—but then again, weren't all these well-bred types related?—and there was a familial resemblance that was more than passing, but that was where the likeness stopped.

Likely

MORE POST-TERAI FIC, who's surprised?

Algy couldn't remember the last time he'd been out for a joyride with Ginger. Whenever it was, their roles would most likely have been reversed, with Algy at the controls and Ginger in the co-pilot's seat; even then, it would probably have been more in the way of an instructional flight than a lark. It was something he and Biggles had done a lot in their younger years, heading out for the day with a picnic or just spending a couple of bright hours doing some aerial sightseeing, but since Ginger came along they'd done a lot more flying for a living than for fun.

It was a good day for it: high cloud and a light breeze, the spring sun surprisingly warm where it shone through the Auster's windows. Algy found he was slightly disappointed that there hadn't been a hamper in the boot along with their jackets, and not just because that would have delayed the point in the day when they had to go home so that he could resume the important business of doing as little as possible.

Watch

Algy receives an unexpected invitation.

Algy glanced at his watch. He had no idea where the invitation had come from, or how it had found him, but from the moment he opened it there was no possibility that he wouldn't attend. Which meant he had a little over nine hours to somehow put together a suitable costume. He was definitely going to need some help.

He hurried out of his room, and banged on the adjacent door with his fist. There was a muffled and extremely impolite response from the other side.

Tagging @philomytha, @sholiofic, @dotsayers and @sweetsorcery, and anyone else who wants to do it...

[lightsoutmotel]

REPAYMENT WITH INTEREST. — m!Avery x gender neutral reader.

Description — Your dad takes care of you. All you want to do is show a little gratitude.

Content Warnings — Incest, daddy kink, reader has a cunt, unprotected sex, mild dubcon (reader surprises Avery with being forward but he ends up being into it)

Word Count — 2288

Getting your dad's attention has always been hard. It's a competition between his work and you, you and his work, and you are more of a fixed point in his life than the whimsy of the stock market, so he expects you to always be right where you're supposed to be. Occupied with your diversions except for when it's dinnertime, vacation time, or the odd occasion when he lets you join him for a social function.

It's the last one that you like best.

At first, you thought it was because of how exciting it is to go where all the beautiful, powerful people play, surrounded by glamour and excess. It's almost always nicer than going to school or work.

But in actuality, there's always one moment you return to: your fixed point in your relationship with him.

You were just being cute, hanging onto his arm with your head leaned against him; one of your not-so-subtle tells that you're finished for the night and want to go back to the hotel room. The conversation he was caught in kept dragging on and you knew better than to interrupt.

Someone else did that for you, though, slipping into the conversational circle with lighthearted greetings, and you offered whoever it was a polite smile that showed your tiredness around the eyes.

"Aren't you a sleepy thing," this new person observed with a laugh. "Avery, you should be spiriting your partner away to bed, don't you think?"

The question left your heart feeling so light in your chest it woke you up with a jolt. Your cheeks warmed and you couldn't think of a word to say in response. Your father, on the other hand, you could feel tensing.

"This is my child, actually. Not my partner," he responded in a well-practiced casual tone. He omitted mentioning that his wife, your mother, had died, and he would rather take his child along for a night out as a treat than attend alone.

Silence followed, awkward and uncomfortable for a couple beats before apologies spilled forth. Your dad waved things off, clearly eager to get past that social hiccup, and so it left you alone in thinking about what just happened.

Things played out normally that night, for the most part. You both left for the hotel, said good night, and settled into your respective rooms in the suite to settle in.

You were awake in bed, eyes on the ceiling, thinking about your dad. Obsessing over him. Thinking of how muscular his arm felt under your hands, the scent of his cologne, how confident he was. Heat stirred in your stomach and it was the first time you touched yourself to the thought of your dad's hands on your skin.

Certainly not the last, though.

And that's what brings you to him tonight, wearing something a little bold, a little daring that you bought with his money to show off what, exactly, he's been investing in. Distance made your heart grow desperate so that kicked off your impulse to catch him when he returned from a business trip.

You haven't seen each other in two weeks but you see him now, suit jacket slung over a chair in the home bar, whiskey in hand, the shadow of stubble on his lip and jaw and you can imagine the way it would catch on your fingertips and mouth.

He looks tired. Maybe even in a bad mood. It gives you pause but before you can begin to step back from the doorway, he looks over and catches you. Quietly assesses you. His eyes flit down your form and it makes you feel naked.

"...What are you wearing?" he asks haltingly, and it sounds like the most uncertain you've ever heard him be.

With little opportunity to escape that wouldn't just delay the inevitable, you steel yourself, raise your chin like he taught you. "Lingerie, Daddy."

There's a tick in his brow that makes you feel like you've made a misstep but you hold strong. You try to look as brave as you can, dressed in delicate lace and not much else. The important bits are covered but the cut and design draws attention to what's hidden rather than outright obscuring it all. Flattering. Custom-fit and tailored to you and you alone.

"Lingerie," he repeats after knocking back the rest of his drink and setting it down firmly on the bar top. "Would you like to explain why you're wearing lingerie?"

You invite yourself closer with a sway in your hips, looking almost demure aside from your outfit, with hands tucked behind your back and your eyes — you were always told that you have your late mother's eyes — dropping to the floor instead of meeting his.

"...Because I want you to look at me," you finally say as you come to a stop in front of him.

He's so tall. This close, you can smell his cologne. You want to feel the heat of his skin.

"I'm looking at you, sunshine, what is this abou—"

You drop to your knees on the cold, tiled floor, your hands on his thighs, and once again you feel him tense. Now, you look at him. And he dares to look back, to meet those eyes of yours, to see a sight that's so eerily familiar and yet so wrong all the same.

But he doesn't stop you as you pull the tongue of his belt free, leather sliding over leather. Nor when you unfasten the buckle, the button and zipper on his slacks, and dip your fingers past the waistband of his underwear. He's hard — that much is apparent, even in his reluctance — and you groan when his length bobs to stiffness once you tug his clothes down far enough.

"Let me take care of you this time, Daddy, you do so much for me," you murmur as you lean in to nuzzle against the velvety skin of his cock.

He jolts at your touch but he relaxes somewhat. A hand settles atop your head and you peek up at him, eyes hazy and pleading, heart skipping at how he's letting you continue. It's better than you could have ever hoped.

So you don't want to disappoint him or keep him waiting: you dip down to lick from the base of his cock up to the tip with the flat of your tongue. The taste of him makes your eyes flutter and you take him past your lips with a soft noise of pleasure. His hips twitch forward and you let him sink farther into your mouth with little complaint.

But you one-up him and keep going, slowly and steadily, until you take him down to the base. The effort has tears stinging in your eyes and your throat protesting against the intrusion, but you stay down for a few long beats. Eyes half-lidded. Getting wet between your thighs. Then you draw back in a mess of drool and precum all to go down again, throating him as best as you can.

"Oh, darling," he sighs out, petting at you as you go, hips rocking forward to match your pace. "When did you learn to do that?"

That makes you smile around the cock in your mouth and it encourages you to keep going, to speed up, to work until you feel him tense for a different reason this time.

He fucks your mouth in earnest once he's sure you can take it, drawing out sounds of choking and wet, making a mess of your face and neck and chest and lingerie and your eyes roll back from how good it feels to be used by him. You hold yourself down and let him do as he pleases until he drags you off his cock, making you whine once you're done coughing and clearing your throat.

Spit connects your mouth to him. He strokes your cheek, regardless of how filthy you've become, and you lean into his hand without hesitation though you keep eyeing his twitching cock with the intent to suck it again.

"I know you want more, sweet thing," he says soothingly, voice rumbling lower in his chest in a way that makes you purr in kind. "But let me take care of you too now."

He hauls you up into his arms and you smile and laugh in delight, only for your mouth to be taken by his — your father kisses you with abandon even with your mouth heavy with his taste, your face dripping with your efforts. The kiss continues even as he gets your back to a wall and rearranges your limbs to get your legs around his waist. Your lips meet with warmth and desire, breathlessness, an ache so close to being soothed.

Your clothes are shifted by his steady hand until your hot, slick cunt is bared to him. A whine is drawn from your mouth when he rubs roughly over your core to catch your clit and feel how turned on you are.

"Do you think you can take me?" he asks, voice soft and betraying a hint of concern.

"I know I can, Daddy," is your immediate reply.

The chuckle in his chest is reward enough as you feel it reverberate. He takes your word for it, out of trust and out of his own need to be sank as deep as he can inside you to sate you both, and lines himself up. Your arms are thrown around his shoulders to dig your nails into the fabric of his dress shirt and hold on as he rolls his hips up to bottom out deep into your pussy.

It makes you keen out and cling to him that much harder. He has to pause once he's settled, almost as if to school himself into not cumming already, you feel so good on his cock.

Savoring you. In disbelief that he's balls deep in you. When he pulls his hips back only to buck forward again, he's fucking you.

It's wrong. Deeply wrong. Blood and sex shouldn't mix like this. Past the fog in your brain as your father finds the perfect pace to fuck you at — urgent, firm, plunging deep into you only to draw out and bury himself inside again as quickly as possible — you blearily wonder if you'll both regret this. Tomorrow will come, and you worry that this might be all and this one illicit romp will be all you can claim.

Your father doesn't seem to have the same reservations when he noses against you to have you tip your head back, all for him to capture your mouth with a groan — your worried thoughts dim as you surrender yourself to his easy dominance.

All that matters is that he's fucking you. That you can feel him deep inside you. Raw and hot and yours for now.

Your cunt is a mess. It drips down the curve of your ass, down your dad's cock to stain his perfectly-ironed pants. It sinks in that he didn't even bother to undress further all in his eagerness to have you.

Pleasure deeper than what he's making your body feel lights you up inside and you whine out "Daddy" into his mouth in your exaltation.

"I'm right here, darling... You're being so good for me."

His head moves to tuck itself into the curve of where your neck meets your shoulder. You're a breath away from protesting when you feel the graze of teeth on your skin, the suction of his mouth, and you're near-dizzy realizing that he's marking you. Always, always his. Always have been.

Always will be.

He grinds against your clit with every thrust and the friction sends you closer and closer to your peak. Futile, but you try to move your hips with his in your desperation to cum all over the cock that made you. It's clear to him what you want so he pounds you into the wall harder, determined to get you both there, kissing your skin and grunting with the effort.

You cum first. It's strong and full-bodied, making your back arch and has you clinging to him that much harder. Your legs around his waist keep him sank inside of you as your cunt squeezes and spasms around him without any chance of pulling out. It's not as if he tries to. So he's quick to join you with quick, shallow pumps as he fills you with his cum.

As you both come down, twitching and breathless, you nuzzle against him with a noise of contentment. He kisses your forehead and moves to let your legs down and have you stand but you protest. Laughing fondly, he fixes his pants then gathers you up in his arms and carries you off, up the stairs, pausing once he ascends to the landing.

Considering, between your room and his.

It occurs to you that you don't remember the last time he carried you to bed.

He turns and walks to his room.

It occurs to you that you don't remember the last time you both slept in the same bed.

This time, however, he sets you down and pulls the sheets over you. For a few moments, he's gone and all you hear is the sound of fabric rustling. The mattress dips behind you and you're drawn into his arms back against his bare chest.

When was the last time he had someone else in this bed?

A kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck and he squeezes you tight. Safe and sound. Questions were to be saved for tomorrow, but for the night, nothing more complicated than slumber.

[blacksite-saboteur]

GENERAL INFORMATION

(( THE SHOP IS: OPEN (but very delayed due to mod's mental health reasons) ))

Oh, hey. I'll make this quick.

My name is Sebastian, and I am just a local, selling his wares, in exchange for any research you probably stumbled upon already before getting here.

If you, for some reason, decide you want to stay for a bit and chat, then I won't stop you. I'll even try my best to answer whatever questions you might have, so long as you aren't too personal about it. As a bonus, if you buy something, I might be okay with you sticking around...maybe.

WARNING / RULES

(( This blog contains swearing, and may possibly contain mild descriptions of violence, death, or blood/gore in the future. ))

Alright, I'm gonna lay down some ground rules while I've still got your attention. Don't want things getting out of hand.

: If you decide to be weird, I'm just going to ignore you. This means don't try to get raunchy or sexual with me, got it? You can feel free to embarrass yourself all you'd like, but I'm not gonna justify your behavior with a response. Or, if I do for some reason respond, it's going to be to laugh at you.

: If you're planning on coming back, give yourself some sort of identification so I know who you are. It's just easier for me that way, I'm not good with remembering only faces. If you don't, then don't expect me to remember who you are.

: I don't work for free, understood? No payment, no service. If you try to steal from me, I'll feed you to Eyefestation.

OOC DESCRIPTION BELOW

Any and all types of interaction (OOC, Canon, Expendable or Entity OCs, AUs, Fandom Crossovers, ETC.), including other Sebastian askblogs, is perfectly fine. Go wild. I'll try to respond to any and all asks with as detailed of replies as I can, especially roleplay asks!

If you want to interact using an AU, please send me a DM or something explaining the AU to me so I understand. I'm not magic, after all.

Headcanons may be included as this goes on, but as of right now, I don't have any specific headcanons in place yet.

This post might get updated if things change.

You can call me either Mod, Bones, or a combination of the two. I'm perfectly alright with any pronouns except for she/her, so feel free to get creative with it. I am also a minor (16), so please keep that in mind when sending asks.

This is just a roleplay ask blog that I made for fun because I saw other people doing it recently and I love making/participating in ask blogs a lot. Unless otherwise stated, all posts will be in character, with any mod additions being written either in the tags, or in the post in double brackets.

As much as I'd like to, I don't have the motivation nor time to make a drawing for every ask, so expect to see only text posts here. (Though there's a small chance that if I really like the ask, I might make a doodle for it. Maybe.)

That's about it. Hope you enjoy talking here!

IMAGE CREDIT LINKS: Profile Photo Banner

DIVIDER CREDIT LINKS: Bubbles Pearls

[leeflagoon]

Wasn't me: Leon Kennedy x Chris Redfield (Resident Evil)

I listened to the new Mitski album while writing this. This whole fic is based off an inside joke my friend made, but I honestly really like how it turned out. I hope you guys enjoy!!! Meme at the end!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWs: Alcohol, pew pews, language, mild nsft mentioned

Leon Kennedy and Chris Redfield are running away from a hoard of zombies, the whole situation takes an odd and emotional turn...

The two men run through the abandoned facility, their panicked footsteps thundering down the withering hallways. Zombies screech and tumble after them, desperately clawing over each other for the taste of human.

"Shit! I'm running out of ammo!" Chris Redfield yells out to Leon, turning back to shoot at the mob of zombies behind them.

"There should be more in a room somewhere. I could have sworn i left a box in the room on the left a few halls down." Leon yelled back in response.

"Now why. The FUCK," Chris slammed into the wall and brought a large shelf down to delay the infected hoard behind them, making a loud crash before he continues his sentence, "WOULD YOU DO THAT!?!?!?!?"

"I'm...I'm drunk off my mind, man..." Leon huffed while catching his breath, "I wish I never agreed to do this.." Chris could smell the alcohol coming from Leon's breath.

Chris looks at Leon with a disgusted and horrified expression after realizing he has a new liability to take care of (Leon). He catches his breath for a moment, his hand on his knees. "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME!?"

"You KNEW THIS when you dragged me out here, CHRISTOPHER!" Leon retorted, taking out a flask from the inner pocket of his jacket and taking a swig.

Chris immediately slaps the flask out of Leon's hand, "Get over yourself, Kennedy!" Chris begins to walk down the hall again, looking for the room Leon mentioned he stupidly left his ammo in. The ammo the two so desperately need at the moment, because the zombies are starting to break through the shelf separating them from the two agents.

"Who pissed in your cereal?" Leon mumbled while picking up his flask from the ground and drinking the last of the alcohol inside. He is visibly getting more intoxicated while walking ahead of Chris, finding the room with the dropped ammo first.

Chris grabs the ammo quickly and walks out of the room, looking at Leon who waited outside the doorway of the room. He looks at the drunk agent with disgust and starts to say something witty before being interrupted.

"Your fly is down..." Leon hiccups and rubs his eyes. Chris stops in his tracks, dropping his expression and looking down at his pants.

His fly is down. Chris's baby blue rubber ducky boxers are peeking through the fly. Redfield zips up his fly awkwardly and looks at Leon with pursed lips, "Oh, okay..thanks."

Leon smirks, his gaze landing at Chris's crotch, "Were those rubber duckies?"

Chris groans with exasperation of his intoxicated friend and glares at Leon, "Stop staring, you gay fuck."

Leon's eyes widen and he makes an offended expression, "You drag me out of my well deserved vacation, make me fight these fucking zombies again, and expect me not to be pissy about it?"

Chris has had about enough and points a finger at the sassy blonde, "You're too drunk to think properly but sober enough to be a smartass? Get your shit together before I make you zombie-bait, Leon. For fucks sake."

Leon stops talking, looking at Chris's finger, then into his eyes. The pause elicits a moment of tension between the two, whether it was animosity or romance is debatable. The drinking agent only stares, his crystalline eyes darting around the facial features of his sober companion. Leon starts slowly raising his pistol, moving closer to Chris.

"L-Leon, what the hell are you doing..?" Chris breaks the tense silence with a softer voice, eyeing Leon's gun. He backs up with growing cautiousness and a dawning feeling of doom and betrayal: but there are only so many steps Chris could take back before he walks right into the shelf and hoard of zombies behind them.

Leon doesn't speak, he only moves closer and gazes at his companion with narrowed and blurred eyes.

Before Redfield could question Leon again, he finds himself in the embrace of the drunk and depressed agent. Chris feels Kennedy's calloused hand rest on the back of his head. Leon's stubble lightly abrades his partner's shoulder. The two feel each other's heartbeat; one pounds with confusion and fear, the other is calm and steady.

Leon shoots his pistol past Chris, shooting some zombies that manages to pass through the blocked hall. Chris tries to look behind him in disbelief, relieved that his fears of betrayal were not true; but instead Redfield is caught completely off guard.

Leon moves Chris's head so that the two men are face-to-face, his eyes are filled with the determination and life they had when Leon first started out. Chris notices the revived spark in Leon's eyes, even if it was only for a moment. An odd feeling of nostalgia and grief washed over him, seeing the Kennedy he knew when they were rookies.

Leon ends the lacuna of soundlessness with a soft murmur, his words barely heard over the cracking bangs of his pistol shooting the infected creatures--that were once man--behind his partner.

"Wasn't me.."

Chris's eyes flutter closed with repose and acceptance as Leon's lips meet his.

[matchagator]

Sheltered: Chapter 12

After an interesting evening with their mother, the sisters can finally relax...or at least, one of them can.

It's Spring Break for us writers, so stay tuned for a week of updates to make up for the delay or visit here for the complete story.

{Main Pairings:} Jeon Jungkook/Original Female Character, Choi Soobin/Original Female Character, Kim Taehyung/Original Female Character(s)

{Rating:} 18+

{Genre:} Alternate Universe - Hybrids

{Summary:} Realization finally dawned on Lily, knowing she now had the responsibility of three hybrids rather than three dogs. Her eyes grew wide while her eyebrows rose up in wonder before she turned her attention to her sister. The shocked expression of Rose had her smile sheepishly. “Well, at least we don’t have to name them.”

{Warnings:} Mature Language, Rut/Mating Behaviors, Mild Flirting, Sexual Content, Oral, Unprotected Sex, Fingering

{Taglist:} @chimsworldsstuff

As the evening settled and the group of five recovered from the taxing whirlwind that was the girl’s mom, Rose found herself lying peacefully in bed, her fingers manipulating the keys of her iPhone as she responded to a text from Taehyung. She couldn’t help but smile at his request, suddenly excited about the possibility of him coming over for a study date. They rarely ever had the opportunity to be alone due to either their busy schedules or their stubbornness to admit their feelings for each other standing in the way. 

Rose’s train of thought was quickly pulled by the sight of Jungkook sauntering through her room while rubbing his damp hair with a small towel. His built frame was concealed by an oversized gray t-shirt which was pulled up slightly as his hands worked through his hair, exposing his pajama bottoms that hung deliciously off of his hips. He rubbed the towel behind his ears, tilting his head to the side as if trying to shake out water from his ear canal. 

Typically, Jungkook found comfort at the foot of her bed, curling up in his dog form to avoid as much contact with the brunette as he possibly could. Recently, he’d begun sleeping by her side, enjoying a larger amount of space on the bed as they began enjoying each other's company. 

Rose shifted in her spot, rotating her body to place her phone on her nightstand, making sure to plug it in and double-check that her alarm was set for her early morning positioning class. As she turned to get comfortable for the evening, she felt her mattress sink from beside her, more so than when Jungkook would usually hop in bed. Her eyes shifted to find a very human Jungkook hugging a pillow as he found a comfortable position with his stomach face down as if he’d just thrown himself on the bed. 

Rose’s eyes widened. First, he was lying on her lap while she was studying in his human form, and now he was lying beside her? “What are you doing?” She questioned, Jungkook remained perfectly still as he responded. 

“Going to sleep.” His voice was deep, slightly husky from the exhaustion of the day with his head resting on its side, his handsome features facing away from her prying eyes. 

She sunk into her sheets, leaning her head on her hand as her elbow kept her propped up. “Like that?” She didn’t mean anything by it. She was simply surprised that for the first time since his arrival, he was comfortable enough to sleep without morphing. She caught a glimpse of Jungkook pushing up on his elbows as his tired eyes found her questioning stare. 

“Is there a problem?” His expression hardened, almost as if expecting her to refute and cause a scene. Rose inhaled, shaking her head as she allowed herself to lay flush along her back. 

“Nope.” She finally released her breath, feeling the duvet shuffle from beside her. She glanced to the side, her blue hues freezing on the image of Jungkook’s face inches from her own. He rotated his body towards her with his face hovering centimeters from her cheek as he inhaled the ever-comforting scent exuding off of her. 

“Thanks for what you said today.” His voice was soft, leaving Rose stunned by the sincerity laced in his tone. 

Her eyes quickly found the ceiling, refusing to stare back at him in such close proximity. She could already feel her heartbeat accelerating due to his invasion of her personal space. “My mom’s a lot. I just wanted to shut her up.” Rose lied, knowing fully that while yes, she did want to put her mom in her place, she was also genuinely defending Jungkook. 

Despite keeping her eyes glued to the ceiling, she felt him move closer, his nose brushing against her cheek as he moved to speak in her ear. He could sense her discomfort, thrilled that he was the reason for her heart pummeling against her ribcage. “I knew you secretly loved me.” He teased, moving to roll back to the other side of the bed. A large smirk invaded his lips, his hearing zoning in on the irregularity in her breathing, satisfied with the effect he caused.

Rose was paralyzed, her body freezing up at Jungkook’s breath against her ear. The mockery in his tone was accompanied by a deep rumble in his chest, almost as if he knew what he was doing. She gulped down the shock, upset with how easily he managed to throw her off. She stubbornly rolled over to face the opposite direction, pulling her covers up over her shoulders. “Whatever.” She mumbled, fighting the threat of a smile tugging at her lips. 

—

While Rose outwardly rebelled against their mother, Lily took a more internal approach, remaining quiet to appease everyone until she found herself alone to cope with the stress of the day. The warmth of her running shower washed away the tension in her muscles, finally feeling as if she could release the large wave of anxiety that festered during the entirety of their mother’s visit. Lily wasn’t one to outwardly express her emotions which often ended with her dwelling on the things she could’ve said or should’ve done. 

She let a sigh escape her lips as she lathered the shampoo between her fingers, combing it through her strands before massaging her scalp in gentle circles. It didn’t take long until she heard the familiar click of her bathroom door, letting an exasperated sigh escape her lips at the realization that she hadn’t locked it. She knew she needed to, especially after Soobin’s latest invasion, however, it often slipped her mind as she fought to create a new habit in her routine. 

She quietly wiped the suds from her eyes, peering through the glass to find Soobin standing directly in front of her, his eyes dark with need as they stalked her through the glass. She jumped back in surprise, placing a hand over her heart as she felt the organ thump against her palm. “Fuck…Soobin.” She groaned, feeling as if her heart sank from the fear. “Why’d you do that? I thought I told you to knock?”

She felt exposed, suddenly recalling that the only thing preventing Soobin from seeing every inch of her naked body was the thin layer of condensation that accumulated against the glass. “I forgot.” His voice was husky with lust, lying through his teeth as he tugged off his shirt and bottoms, peeling the layers off effortlessly. His body was scorching, no longer able to deny his urges as they compelled him to take what he wanted, and what he wanted was Lily. 

“What are you doing?” She spoke frantically as she watched the tallest hybrid pull open the shower door, revealing their naked bodies to each other as his eyes dilated fully from the sight of her. 

“Shit...you’re perfect.” He huffed, wasting no time to invade the small confinement of the space, his mind almost placing him in a trance as his body forced him to indulge in his instincts. 

Lily stood wide-eyed, the inner workings of her mind shutting down as she observed Soobin’s naked frame, stunned by how muscular and toned he was. She felt her throat run dry, parched at the mere sight of his body, let alone his thick hardened length hanging deliciously between his thighs. 

She blinked a few times, holding out her hands to press against his chest as he attempted to pull their bodies together. “Soobin…I…” She felt his fingers grasp around her wrist as he slowly pulled her hands down. He snaked a hand around her waist, the contact igniting Lily’s skin from the warmth of his palms. He gently pressed against her hip bones as he turned her to face away from him, moving his hands up to her scalp.

 He began mimicking gentle circles as he massaged the shampoo against her strands. Lily’s eyes squeezed shut as her mouth hung open from the calming motions as if receiving a much-needed therapy session to suppress her anxiety. She felt herself melt under his touch, her body swaying against each movement of his fingertips. She felt the stream of water rinse away any evidence of the soap as Soobin moved his hands down to her shoulders before brushing his fingertips along the length of her arms. 

He leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear from behind as his hands gripped her hips tightly. “I need you.” The desperation in his voice sent a wave of lust coursing through Lily, feeling the throbbing of her heat as her body became drenched from his ministrations. “I’ve wanted you all week.”

 He continued, slowly moving forward as he guided her to press against the wall of the shower, her chest pinned in place against the tile as his fingertips squeezed against the flesh of her hips. “Can I have you?” He continued to whisper in her ear with a low guttural sound accompanying his voice, his breath sending a chill through her body as his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. Lily could make out the slightest whine accompanying his words as if simply waiting for her permission caused him severe anguish.

She turned her head to the side, her cheek pressing against the tile as her palms rested on either side of her, completely unraveling from the seduction of Soobin’s actions. She nodded weakly, unable to vocalize her desires as she felt Soobin’s hips buckle forward from her silent gesture, his hardened length pressing into the flesh of her ass as a satisfied groan bellowed from his chest. 

He moved with urgency. He needed her and she was just within his reach as he trailed his fingers down towards her swollen heat, gliding through her moist folds as he circled the pad of his index finger against her clit. The moan he extracted from her lips only fueled his motivation, his pupils were completely blown out as he allowed her scent to intoxicate him further. 

“You’re so wet for me…” He growled, slipping his hand further to insert two fingers inside her. His hips bucked forward as he felt her stretch around his digits as he craved the sensation around his cock. He pumped his fingers in and out, his eyes glued to the sight of Lily pressed between him and the wall. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her face displaying the pleasure Soobin was putting her body through as she pushed her hips back to rub her ass against his hardened length. 

“Please, Soobin.” She whined, desperate to feel him inside of her as the heat of the moment became suffocating. Each pump of his fingers built the growing sensation in the pit of her stomach, grinding her hips against his as she savored the stretch of him slipping in another finger. “Soobin, I need you.”

Her pleading sent him over, his rut completely engulfing his instincts as he pressed her hips forward, releasing his fingers and replacing it with his dick, already dripping in precum as he pushed himself in rather quickly. Lily let out a gasp as the sudden rapid stretch around his length sent a wave of pleasure and pain from her adjusting to his girth. “Shit. I’m sorry.” Soobin whispered in her ear, wrapping a hand around her neck to guide her chin to face him. He hopelessly fought to still his hips, allowing Lily to adjust to him further before moving inside of her. 

He leaned forward, tilting his head to the side to capture Lily’s lips in a heated kiss with the stream of warm water running along Soobin’s back as he pressed into her from behind. He pulled away, moving to whisper in her ear once more as his fingers laced with hers, pinning her arms to the tile. “I’m gonna fuck my cum into you, okay baby?” He huffed, his need to move peaking as he instinctually began grinding his hips, thrusting forward as Lily’s pussy took him deliciously. “You take my dick so good.” He groaned happily, picking up the pace as her body constricted around his member.

Lily’s mouth hung open, almost pornographically as each thrust of his hips elicited moans from the brunette. “Oh my god.” She breathed, her body struggling to keep up with Soobin’s pace. Lily’s mind whirled, completely submissive as she craved to feel him pump his seed inside of her, his words aiding in building her climb. Her body jolted against the cold tile, the temperature of Soobin’s body keeping her warm as she felt him pull back, pulling her hips with him. 

“Bend over.” He commanded; his voice still soft as it became distorted with lust. Lily was quick to obey, stepping back with him as she bent her torso forward, stretching her arms out to help prop herself up on the wall as she stuck her rear up for him to admire. “Ah shit, that’s it.” 

He glanced down to admire the plump flesh of her ass, watching his length slide in and out of her swollen heat as his vision went red in need. Lily moaned as the change in position allowed him to access the deepest part of her cervix, each pounding of his hips hitting her sweet spot. “I’m gonna cum.” She whined, her moans singing Soobin’s praise as she felt the pressure in her stomach snap, coming undone as her walls constricted around his length. 

“You’re so tight, baby.” Soobin growled, needing to put more effort into his thrusts as her body shot waves of pleasure through her limbs. He slipped out of her, dropping a knee as his large hands gripped the cheeks of her ass. He pulled them apart to reveal her dripping pussy as his eyes devoured the sight of her drenched from his ministrations. 

He leaned forward, running his tongue up from her clit along the length of her lips as he tasted his sweet human, her scent invading his senses. Lily was too blissed out to notice Soobin’s movements, practically crawling out of her skin as she felt his wet tongue taste the entirety of her vagina. She instinctively stood up, Soobin’s hand pressing her back down to keep her bent over as he stood up. “One more, give me one more.” 

Who was this version of Soobin? He was so needy, yet so confident. She felt as if his words alone could ignite another orgasm. He was so tender yet animalistic as he indulged in his rut, overwhelming Lily’s senses completely.  

It wasn’t long until she felt the pressure back between her legs, whining slightly at the stimulation as Soobin continued to draw reactions from her body. This time he was on a mission. He wanted to fill her to the brim with his cum, his desire to mate her invaded his judgment as he bit down on his lip to prevent it from sinking into her shoulder. He began pounding into her mercilessly, his mind going crazy at the view of her bent over for him, watching her take him was the best he’d ever seen. She was perfect and he wanted to make her his, only his. 

His ruthless rhythm built up Lily’s climax once more, another orgasm ripping through her as he growled at the tightening of her walls. A guttural sound echoed through the shower as his teeth and eyes flashed to reveal his animalistic nature, his cock pummeling her cervix as he felt his end, painting her walls with seed as a euphoric haze overwhelmed his mind. This was the moment he’d been waiting for his entire rut, the torture of pushing off his desire finally relieved as he pumped in every ounce of cum he had to give. His hands moved from around her waist to her shoulders, helping her stand straight as she whimpered from the overstimulation of his cock sliding against her clit when he pulled out. 

Her face was flushed with the evidence of her pleasure exposed in her blissed expression. She turned to face Soobin, her eyes finding the chocolate coloration of his irises as his pupils receded. He looked completely spent, the exhaustion evident on his features as a large smile invaded his naturally pouty lips. “You’re amazing.” He whispered, clearly out of breath from their heated exchange. He pressed the palm on his hand against her cheek, watching as Lily leaned into his hand in return, closing her eyes from the tender moment. 

“I could say the same thing about you.” She grinned, opening her eyes to find Soobin’s longing expression. While his rut was now suppressed and sedated, his urge to mate her only amplified, wanting to be the only person to ever experience her the way he had. He pulled her flush against his chest, savoring the warmth of her body as he held her in his embrace, allowing the water to wash away any mess they created. 

Previous | Next

[leogichidaa]

Tbh I always headcanoned that Regulus was seen as the “thinner, less handsome” version of Sirius was because of both actual health issues and a more reserved/inward personality. I guess in my head I always saw that he had some health issues as a kid, but they would have been things that were fixed with time. And that Walburga didn’t understand that just because Sirius was an energetic prodigy in every sense of the word, doesn’t mean that his brother would be the same, and that’s ok!

Ergo, if Reg survived and was able to grow on his own terms and get healthier, more filled out, AND relaxed a bit while reforming his moral compass, the only difference physically between him and Sirius would be that he has a slimmer build and is a little shorter. Other than that the resemblance would be uncanny, he’d look like a reserved Sirius ( instead of idk reserved and dour 🧐)

Tbh I always saw a fully grown Regulus as tall as an average tall guy (like 6 feet even). Sirius just sets unrealistic expectations by existing 😂.

Oh geez, sorry it's taken almost a month to respond to this 😖 I must have missed it when I was going through my notifications after getting out of the hospital and I just saw it.

I like the hc of Regulus having health issues as a kid. I think sickly Victorian-esque child suits him. Making him a second-born child prone to illness also happens to slot him very nicely into Adlerian psychoanalytic theory (Alfred Adler, known among other things for his creation of the "inferiority complex" concept and theories about the impact of birth order on one's personality, was himself was a sickly child and a second born son who was intensely jealous of his older brother) and there's little I love more than psychoanalyzing my beloved fictional characters to death.

I can definitely see Walburga not understanding Regulus' temperament at all. She seems to have been quite an energetic woman and, as you said, Sirius set the bar and he set it abnormally high. This is why I am partial to the idea that Orion is more mild-mannered (by no means actually mild, but comparatively) and that there's some sort of kinship between Regulus and his father, neither of whom enjoy the loud, dramatic displays that Sirius and Walburga seem to relish in.

Ok so, based on your theory about Regulus surviving, I am imagining an AU where Regulus survives and fucks off somewhere lovely and warm and spends a decade and change relaxing and enjoying his new life away from any familial responsibilities or reminders of his past. He grows into a healthy adult, and is mildly dismayed that he is the spitting image of his brother. One day in the middle of the summer, he starts getting funny looks from people and has to evade the muggle police a handful of times because his face is plastered all over the news as a wanted criminal. Of course it's not his face, it's Sirius', but they look similar enough that it forces him to go even further into hiding.

Adult Regulus can be tall, he can be 6' if he likes, as long as his growth spurt is a year or two delayed, not until late adolescence. I'm partial to him being average/slightly below average height as a child/early adolescent.

I suppose, canonically, that would mean that he'd finally grow to his full height only to die shortly after. Live fast, die young, leave a tall corpse or something.

[siriannatan]

Short Convex Drabble

One can not fight the urge to write some Convex when it arrives. It can be delayed with games but it'll be there until a thing is made so here we are.

If Scar had to describe how he felt when he was rudely woken up by what felt like a mild electric shock he'd say - 'like I've just been hit by a truck'. And he'd know how that felt. Being a hero he got hit by a few in his career. Said career was also why he was suddenly very much worried. The last thing he remembered was fighting a rather dangerous villain. So against every fibre of him hurting and telling him to carry on resting Scar opened his eyes with a groan. When was the last time he felt so...

Sudden click of shoes on the polished concrete floor of what looked like lab Scar was. It had him in even more pain as he tried to look for the source of it far too quickly. "Awake already? As expected of a top-rated hero," an amused chuckle had Scar's head spinning even more as he tried to focus. 

Even with how blurry his vision was at the moment and with no amount of blinking helping he could recognise the light blue blinking of the sculk. A mysterious technological infection. A physical virus overtaking electronics at unheard-of speeds and with no way back. It looked like it was all over the lab. Over the blurry walls. Over what looked like some sort of control panels. Scar wasn't all that knowledgeable about technology but he understood that it did not spell anything good for him. Especially if he was as connected to the covered in the twinkling shades of blue and green tech-mould as he felt he was.

He could also see a blurry figure. Checking something by the panels. Their hair looked to be long, tied in either a ponytail or a braid, dark. And they wore what looked like a white lab coat. As Scar's vision slowly recovered he recognised the white coat the assumed villain responsible for the sculk wore a white lab coat. And where it slid off their shoulder there was a patch of sculk twinkling almost in synch with the stranger's heartbeat.

"No need to overthink things, mister hero," the stranger chuckled. Now that Scar's brain was less scrambled it sounded eerily familiar. And far too human for what everyone assumed was behind the infection. And something in the way they moved was even more eerily familiar. Almost like... He could not bring up the memory.

He knew it was familiar. He knew it from somewhere, someone. But where or who? That felt like it was behind a thick wall of fog. Like something really didn't want him to remember.

"What are you doing to my head?" Scar managed to croak out. His head felt so damn heavy. "Modifying my memories..."

"I'm actually doing the opposite of that, there's this chip in your brain, meant to stop you from turning against the government," the stranger explained - certainly lying - and turned around. And another wave of that creepy familiarity hit Scar. Where did he knew this handsome, dark-haired scientist? Where... "Feeling like you forgot something important?" he hummed and an eerily blue screen of sculk formed by him. Scar guessed it was so the villain could keep an eye on him. But he was kind of right. Scar did feel like he forgot something important. "Don't worry Scar, just a little second and it'll be all back."

"What all? Where did you learn that name?" Scar tried to struggle as a wave of tiredness started to hit him strong.

"You'll remember in just a second," the man... Cub, some sleepy part of Scar's mind supplied, smiled flatly as Scar failed the fight against whatever was happening. "Just a little moment and you'll be free..." was the last words Scar heard.

[mswyrr]

Multiple studies show this can impair patients’ immune defenses, potentially reactivating viruses that linger in the body, such as those that cause mononucleosis and shingles. Long Covid patients whose initial illnesses were mild can sustain immune changes that slow the response to infections and exacerbate chronic conditions for as long as six months, researchers say. Alterations in immune-cell populations, persistent activation of certain white blood cells and other immune disturbances have been observed up to a year after severe cases.

Even if immune dysfunction occurs in just 5% of Covid patients, the effect across populations could raise the threat posed by many other infections, says microbiologist Brendan Crabb, director of the Burnet Institute, a nonprofit medical research organization in Melbourne. “Under this circumstance, you would expect non-Covid infections to have a greater chance to get a foothold, amplify and evolve in people with immune dysfunction,” he says. “These infections are then free to transmit to the wider community more readily than they otherwise would.”

...

In the US, life expectancy fell in 2021 to its lowest since 1996, extending the biggest two-year decline in a century. Covid’s delayed effects may stymie a rebound. In the year after a Covid infection, patients experienced a decline in kidney function equivalent to that from four years of normal aging, according to research by epidemiologist Ziyad Al-Aly, director of the Clinical Epidemiology Center at the Veterans Affairs St. Louis Health Care System in Missouri. Even nonhospitalized Covid patients with no preexisting renal problems have almost a twofold higher risk of developing end-stage kidney disease, compared with someone who’s never had Covid.

Similar effects may be occurring in other organs. “I worry that we’re not even seeing the full effect of it now,” says Al-Aly, who also works as a kidney specialist. Covid has left a lot of patients like Guerinot “alive, yet suffering with these chronic diseases that they probably otherwise would not have had,” he says. “What makes this really profound is that we have literally millions of them.”

[link]

There’s been a series of articles like this--providing real information about the stunning scope of the ongoing pandemic, instead of gaslighting-- in Fortune as well. This information has been known for years, but my hope is that if enough people with money start to care (out of concern for themselves, their families, and the impact on the bottom line of Long Covid) we might see some change.

Until then they will keep dodging the problem and inventing bs concepts like “immunity debt” to explain away what’s happening. It’s important for people to know that infection does not provide good immunity as variants multiply at stunning speed. Not only that, but it can damage your immune system. And the longterm “cost” to your health overall can be very high.

Vaccination is good and helps, but doesn’t seem to prevent these problems for millions of people. Furthermore, with each new variant, the protection from hospitalization and death provided by the vaccines has lessened and boosters are needed to keep it up to even that level. With the rapid mutation of variants, many other treatments have been rendered obsolete: the newest rising variants have outpaced EvuSheld, which immunecompromised people (those who have been able to access it: like Paxlovid, the US admin has never made these much vaunted “tools” available widely and equitably) were relying on for protection.

I can’t overstate how important it is to avoid infection/limit the number of times you’re infected and the “viral load” (how much virus you’re exposed to) when you are infected. Masks, HEPA, ventilation. All of these things work. If you can manage access to Paxlovid, that seems to help insulate people from the worst impacts as well.

In a weak gesture at doing something about the winter wave, the White House is making rapid tests free again, which can also be a helpful way to assess risk for yourself and others.

[101distributorsga]

Discover the Convenience and Quality of Delta Disposable Vapes at 101 Distributors GA

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[puravive-reviews-complaints]

Puravive Reviews Complaints: What You Need to Know Before Buying

Puravive has gained a lot of attention in 2024 as a wellness supplement, with many users praising its ability to boost energy, improve mood, and support health goals. However, as with any popular product, there are also some complaints and concerns worth addressing. In this post, we’ll take a closer look at Puravive reviews and complaints to help you make an informed decision before purchasing.

Common Complaints About Puravive

While the majority of users have had positive experiences with Puravive, a small number of complaints have emerged. Here are some of the most common concerns:

Effectiveness Varies: Some users have reported that the results didn’t meet their expectations. Factors such as lifestyle, diet, and individual body responses can affect how well a supplement works.

Mild Side Effects: A few users have mentioned experiencing mild side effects, such as digestive discomfort or headaches. While these side effects are rare, they should be considered before starting any new supplement.

Cost Concerns: For some, the price of Puravive may be a drawback, especially if they don't experience the desired results quickly. It's important to weigh the cost against the potential benefits.

Delayed Shipping: Another minor complaint involves delayed shipping times, which can vary depending on location and availability.

Why Puravive Might Still Be Worth Trying

Despite these complaints, Puravive remains a popular choice for many looking to improve their overall well-being. Here’s why:

Natural Formula: Puravive uses high-quality, natural ingredients designed to promote health without harmful chemicals or additives.

Positive Results: A large percentage of users have reported increased energy, better focus, and improved mood after regular use.

Well-Rounded Wellness: This supplement aims to provide a holistic approach to health, addressing not only physical well-being but also mental clarity and emotional balance.

How to Avoid Issues

If you’re considering trying Puravive, here are a few tips to avoid potential problems:

Follow Instructions: Ensure you follow the recommended dosage and use the product consistently to achieve the best results.

Consult a Doctor: If you have any pre-existing medical conditions, it’s always a good idea to consult your doctor before starting a new supplement.

Purchase from the Official Site: To avoid counterfeit products and ensure you receive genuine Puravive, always buy from the official site.

Final Thoughts

While some users have shared complaints about Puravive, many still find it to be a valuable addition to their wellness routine. As with any supplement, individual results may vary, so it’s important to consider both the pros and cons.

If you're ready to explore what Puravive can do for you, check out the official site for more details and offers: Visit Puravive Official Site.

[politixpulse]

Apple Bets on AI to Revitalize iPhone 16 Sales Amid Slump

With sales declining, Apple is under pressure to revitalize its iPhone lineup and stimulate a new wave of purchases. On Monday, the tech giant unveiled the iPhone 16, featuring a prominent new addition: an external camera button, which hints at the internal innovations designed to leverage the latest advancements in artificial intelligence (AI).

Apple's CEO, Tim Cook, touted the iPhone 16 as a device that will "push the boundaries of what a smartphone can do." However, Apple faces stiff competition from other brands that have already integrated generative AI features into their devices. The company's share price took a hit during the "Glowtime" event, where the iPhone 16 was introduced alongside other products, ending the day unchanged. As a $3 trillion company, Apple is grappling with concerns about falling behind in the rapidly evolving AI landscape.

Sales of the iPhone—Apple's flagship product, which constitutes about half of its total revenue—have stagnated recently, declining by 1% over the nine months leading up to June 29 compared to the previous year. In response, Apple has designed the iPhone 16 with longer-lasting batteries, more powerful chips, and enhanced privacy features. This new model is the first to be optimized specifically for AI and the company's new "Apple Intelligence" tools, many of which were announced in June. These include advanced writing tools, new emojis, and the integration of OpenAI's ChatGPT into Siri for improved query handling and text generation.

In addition to the iPhone 16, Apple introduced updates to its Apple Watch and AirPods. The new AirPods will feature automatic volume adjustments during in-person conversations and the ability to decline calls with a head shake. The Pro version will also serve as a "clinical grade" personal hearing aid for individuals with mild to moderate hearing loss, pending regulatory approval. This feature is expected to be available in over 100 countries, including the US, Germany, and Japan, starting this autumn.

The product launch was accompanied by protests from a group advocating for better protection of children from harmful content on Apple's App Store. Demonstrators gathered across the street from the event, where a life-sized inflatable resembling Tim Cook was displayed.

The new iPhone 16 will be available for pre-order in September, starting at $799. However, the Apple Intelligence features will not be fully integrated into the operating system until October, with availability in the UK set for December.

Ben Wood, chief analyst at CCS Insight, acknowledged that the new camera control might be perceived as a "glorified shutter button." Nevertheless, he noted that the iPhone 16 includes significant upgrades, such as AI-powered visual search. Wood believes that the combination of Apple Intelligence and advanced camera features will likely appeal to loyal Apple customers, positioning the device as a future-proof investment as new AI features are rolled out over the coming years.

Despite being slower than rivals like Samsung and Google in integrating generative AI features, Apple aims to catch up. Competitors are already incorporating AI into innovative smartphone designs, such as folding and tri-fold devices. Huawei's new tri-fold phone, the Mate XT, reportedly received over three million pre-orders on its launch day.

Gartner analyst Annette Zimmermann emphasized the importance of Apple delivering on its AI promises, noting that the company’s delay in rolling out AI-ready smartphones could impact its reputation and sales if the features are not up to par.

[pardepsteel]

Why Choose a Mild Steel Bar Manufacturer in Punjab?

Mild steel bars are a cornerstone in construction and infrastructure projects, widely recognized for their versatility, durability, and cost-effectiveness. For builders and contractors in Punjab, choosing a reliable local manufacturer can make a significant difference in project outcomes. Here’s why selecting a mild steel bar manufacturer in Punjab is a strategic move for your construction needs.

Proximity Equals Cost Efficiency

One of the key benefits of partnering with a local manufacturer in Punjab is the reduced transportation costs and shorter delivery times. Mild steel bars are bulky and heavy, leading to significant logistics expenses when sourced from distant locations. By choosing a manufacturer close to your project site, you not only save on transportation costs but also minimize delays caused by long shipping times, ensuring that your project stays on schedule.

Quality Assurance Through Local Expertise

Punjab’s mild steel bar manufacturers have extensive experience in catering to the region's unique construction needs. They understand the local environmental conditions, soil types, and building regulations, which allows them to produce steel bars that are specifically designed to withstand these conditions. Additionally, local manufacturers are more accessible for on-site quality checks and audits, providing reassurance that you are receiving materials that meet the required standards.

Customized Solutions for Diverse Requirements

Every construction project is unique, and so are its material requirements. A reputable mild steel bar manufacturer in Punjab offers the flexibility to customize products according to specific dimensions, grades, and finishes. This level of customization ensures that you get the exact product specifications you need, enhancing the structural integrity and performance of your projects.

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Many local manufacturers in Punjab are embracing sustainable practices, such as using energy-efficient production methods and sourcing raw materials responsibly. By choosing a manufacturer that prioritizes sustainability, you contribute to reducing the carbon footprint of your construction project. Additionally, sustainable practices often result in superior products that are built to last, providing long-term value.

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Local manufacturers often pride themselves on building strong relationships with their clients. With a manufacturer based in Punjab, you can expect a higher level of customer service, personalized attention, and quicker responses to any issues or concerns. Furthermore, partnering with a local business strengthens the regional economy and supports community development.

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Local mild steel bar manufacturers in Punjab are more likely to offer competitive pricing and flexible payment options compared to larger, distant suppliers. This flexibility can be especially beneficial for small to medium-sized contractors working within tight budgets. Negotiating directly with local manufacturers allows for better pricing terms and payment plans that align with your cash flow and project timelines.

Conclusion

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If you are looking for a trusted and experienced mild steel bar manufacturer in Punjab, consider partnering with a company that prioritizes quality, sustainability, and customer satisfaction. Make the smart choice today for a successful and sustainable tomorrow.