#Gusts and Beats
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Bessatsu Margaret cover 2025年3月 issue
#Bessatsu Margaret#Betsuma#Toppuu to Beat#Gusts and Beats#Shiina Karuho#Taiyou Yori mo Mabushii Hoshi#A Star Brighter Than the Sun#Kawahara Kazune#Betsuma covers#magazine covers
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the new karuho shiina manga is so good....i knew i could trust her
#gusts and beats#i hope someone picks it up for translation quickly everyone needs to read this.........
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Gusts and Beats Vol.2
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what's your favorite lyric from your top song this year? (or your top song w/ lyrics, if your #1 song is instrumental)
#i wanted to do one too ok#spotify wrapped#mine is uhhh#there's a gust of wind and it warms my core //#which reminds me of what i'm fighting for //#from silicon soul bc never beating the fnaf fan allegations
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make me choose
yanma & gira or yanma & shiokara → yanma & gira
#king ohger#kingohger#super sentai#ohsama sentai king ohger#ohsama sentai kingohger#gira husty#gira hastie#yanma gast#yanma gust#gifs.mmc#kuwagata ohger#tombo ohger#tokuedit#please do not repost#umbrella.edits#umbrella.gifs#umbrella.posts#i like both but yanma and gira has a special place in my heart#can't beat a classic blue and red duo#also nothing has topped the collar grab from episode 2#they have a lot more moments than these but i want this to be a small set so have 5 gifs#the individual gifs of them are from the same scene but side-by-side originally
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there's no other feeling than the glee on your first g3 turn, your set up immediately allows you to use Youthberk: Fullblast to steam roll your opponent :3
#dearest: youthberk#cardfight!! vanguard#cardfight!! vanguard overdress#youthberk#it was so fucking funny#what my lil bro didn't know is that basically every turn youthy kept coming to my hand#literally my opening hand was zest gust tempest and 2 skyfalls#and I kept drawing him#<3#youthy him#to quote my brother: I don't mind getting my ass beat by him#I also played breaking the rock bc I could :3
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this comic got me all sorts of fucked up they got a collar on this girl get behind me jade idc what sort of dirt Agent Gao and the others have on you i’ll defend you with my life
#jade jackson#<- my daughter now#gust#miles morales#spiderman#spider man#also the way mac still ended up protecting a kid. he’s never beating the sorta decent person allegations#m&m posts
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finally got around to drawing my Builder from My Time At Portia, Maggie Darcy!
I promise she gets happier as the story unfolds (despite the uhhh pretty concerning events of the plot), but also...I don't think Maggie ever quite forgives her Pa.
[id in alt]
#mtap builder#my time at portia#my art#it's been close to 2 years since i beat the game and i'm not even playing it rn i just got hit w builder/gust feels#ohhh the parental trauma these two have#i might draw my other builders...i have 3 more oTL#or i might just draw maggie w a smile or something lmao#she also switches her hair to green for a bit...pink is the natural color tho (Pa showing up with the pink hair confirmed it)#this is obv not 100% accurate to the work clothes set but what hoodie can't be improved by chunky zipper
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"in every dimension, Mark Grayson falls for you, but not this one."

Shit, you think. Between all the blood and smoke, you weren't sure if colors could be vibrant anymore. No matter how many people you got to safety or buildings you stopped from falling, there was always more.
More screams, more buildings falling, more dead bodies, more chaos.
"You know, all this blood and fire makes you look so much more pretty," a voice teases. You turn, and for a split second, relief floods you before it quickly replaces itself with apprehension. Mark floats there, but he's different; he's not Mark. His hair is parted into a mohawk, and there's something else. This Mark's eyes are rabid, obsessed, and watching you like you're some type of prize.
You try not to show your apprehension, but it's hard when Mark looks at you like that—like the way he looks at Eve. "Confused, huh?" Mark teases, and he softly lands on the ground, only a couple of feet away from you. "From what I've heard, you and I aren't together in this universe. Lameass me is with Eve. So stupid," Mark says, rolling his eyes at the end. "Can't be too surprised though! This world's me is so lame and weak."
Mark goes on and on about how your world's Mark is a sniveling, weak piece of shit, but you stopped listening. You and Mark are together in a different world.
A gust of wind makes you whip around as another Mark appears before you. But like the one with a mohawk, this one isn't your world's Mark. His suit is different, a mesh of white and gray, and no mask to be found. But like the other Mark, he's staring at you like that.
"Ugh! Couldn't give us a moment alone, could you, asshole!" Mohawk Mark complains, his eyebrows furrowed, and lips pulled into a sneer. The other Mark, the one in white and gray, doesn't acknowledge the complaints and insults thrown his way. Instead, his eyes lock onto yours, and you freeze up as he steps closer to you.
"You don't look any different," is all he says before his fingers hover over your cheek. It's wrong, it's so wrong, the way your heart beats a little faster, how your cheeks flush, and how desperately you want to lean into his warmth. Mark, this Mark in front of you, has killed countless people and caused so much damage that the aftercount might be in the hundreds of thousands.
You don't get a second to react before there's another gust of wind, and yet another Mark stands there. His suit colors are now yellow and black instead of black and dark blue. His yellow cape flows behind him, and a twisted grin pulls at his face.
"y/nnnnnn," Mark calls for you, and you hate how it sounds so right, so good. Mohawk Mark and the one right next to you turn to the other one, and a split silence passes before you're dragged up into the air.
Instinctively, you push away before arms are holding yours behind your back. "Let go!" you yell, your arms straining against Mark's.
"No wayyyy, babe," the Mark with a yellow cape says, coming closer to you, his fingers twirling a curl of your hair.
"Can we just get this over with?" Mohawk Mark says, and your heart drops to your stomach as fast as it's beating.
"We're not going to hurt you," the Mark holding you says, his voice deep and his hold tightening.
"Could have fooled me," you finally say, and the two Marks in front of you laugh. The one twirling your hair stops before squishing your cheeks together and laughing again as you struggle to pull your face out of his hold.
"Still a little firecracker like I remember," he says, and you freeze. Were you with this Mark in his universe as well? And the one behind? Was the universe so cruel that you and Mark were together in every other universe except this one? The one where you chickened out of telling you how you felt, and now he was with Eve.
"Don't worry, pretty. This world's Mark is stupid enough to not make you his, but we aren't."
#invincible#mark grayson#mark grayson x reader#invincible x reader#sinister mark#viltrumite mark#mohawk mark
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Toppuu to Beat and Taiyou Yori mo Mabushii Hoshi background for phone
#Toppuu to Beat#Gusts and Beats#Shiina Karuho#Taiyou Yori mo Mabushii Hoshi#A Star Brighter Than the Sun#Kawahara Kazune#backgrounds#phone backgrounds#Betsuma bgs
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Declined
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader
wc: 9.2k words (whoopsies)
warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, stalker!Simon but he does it with the intention of loving you so therefore I also tag this as fluff, the usual swearing, smut, f!oral receiving, p in v sex, unprotected sex, finishing inside
Continuation of this idea
He almost hadn’t seen you, that very first time
He was begrudgingly on his sixth day of mandatory leave, something he had been pushing Price on for too long now, the Captain finally putting his foot down and saying the Lieutenant could no longer avoid it. Following a couple of particularly brutal operations recently, the higher ups were becoming increasingly concerned as to his mental stability, stating Ghost’s actions and his own written reports reflected an impulsivity and darkness they were steadily losing confidence in.
Ghost found the claims ridiculous. They had shaped him into exactly what they needed him to be on the battlefield, hadn’t they? They’d taken the scrawny runt of the litter and shaped him into a lean, mean, killing machine who never blinked twice as the blood of those lives he’d taken became as permanent of a stain on his skin as the ink from a tattoo gun. What did they fuckin’ care how his bloody mental health was?
Price insisted that the younger man not sulk inside of his flat for the entire duration of what he tried to convince him could be treated as a well deserved rest, encouraging him to get out at least once a day, if only to stretch his legs and prevent him from going truly stir crazy.
“Ye do understand they won’t let you back until they think you’re at least tryin’ to put the work in?” The Captain had told him the last time he saw him, doing his best to remind his second in command of the situation they’d been put into. “Take up fuckin’ yoga if ye think it’ll help ye. Just find something to distract yer mind and have them clear ye to come back sooner than later.”
A distraction huh?
Now, he’s sat at a table in the corner of an already too small and too cramped cafe, nursing a less than mediocre cup of tea on his daily outing, only just looking to help pass the time faster until he could be back on base where he belonged. For no particular reason other than perhaps divine intervention, he had only happened to glance up that time the bell above the door rang rather than the other hundred times it had gone off this morning, and that was when Ghost saw you
You, who appeared as though you’d only stumbled into the shop because a strong gust of wind had pushed you in his direction, your skittish, frazzled appearance making you stand out amongst the crowd of bored looking caffeine addicts stood waiting in queue, hardly sparing you a glance as they awaited their next 5£ fix
You were pushing your hair out of your face as you caught your breath, accompanied by the sound of the bell ringing as the door finally shut behind you, a noise nearly akin to angels strumming their harps up above when Ghost caught his first proper glimpse of your visage
There was something about you that piqued his interest then and there, his eyes never leaving you as you continuously struggled with the stack of books, journals and loose papers nearly slipping from your grasp, your other arm occupied with the so full it could burst tote bag that kept sliding off your shoulder
He had to stop himself from actually scoffing at your appearance, you came across as so opposite to how he carries himself, silent and stealthy, cool and collected, priding himself on being able to slip in and out of rooms unnoticed, even with his huge frame. And here you were, stumbling in like a bull in a china shop and appearing before him like the epitome of a hot mess on legs
He watched you the entire time you stood in queue, he watched you place your order and pay, noting the way his cold, dead to the world heart tried to skip a beat when you smiled at the barista, he watched you glance about the cafe as you waited for your beverage, your gaze somehow never landing on the one that had been focused on you since you walked in
Now, there are countless explanations as to why Ghost did what he did next, many of them could be explained away as being innocent enough, no real ill-intent or harm done, the Lieutenant was simply bored and looking for something to occupy his time with, to entertain his mind, like the higher ups had ordered
Unfortunately for you, he believed he had just found his distraction
It was really almost too easy, any simple civilian could have done it, his SAS skills not even needing to come into play you were making this so simple for him, you might as well have been asking for it
First, he saw your eyes light up when the barista called your name out along with your drink order, giving Ghost the first half of the information he needed. Next, he was watching you walk by his table to collect your beverage, paying him no mind at all as he glanced towards the stack in your arms, your last name practically popping out at him from the top corners of nearly all your loose papers, granting the large men exactly what he’d been hoping to see
You were none the wiser as you happily skipped out of the cafe, bidding the girl behind the counter a happy Sunday along the way, unaware as to the pair of eyes following your every movement, and the traumatized mind behind them who had already begun his plotting
One week
Seven days go by since that first Sunday he saw you in the cafe
And in that time, Simon’s kept himself busy, learning as much as he can about his newest distraction, his new little hobby, his pet project
Equipped with your first and last name tucked into the folds of his brain, it had been all too simple, nearly comical how easy it was for Ghost to look you up online and learn all he wanted to know about you
Thanks to the world wide web, in a weeks time Ghost had been able to discover all those essential details he supposes other men would have had to learn through taking you on date after date, finding out which school you’re attending for your masters degree, gaining access to your class schedule, giving him a glimpse into your routine Mondays through Fridays, discovering which local book store you’re working at part time on the weekends
You’re evidently a clever bird, having your few social media accounts set to private mode, but you’re sweet to think something like that could keep someone like him from getting what he wants
Soon enough, he’s got access to every photo and video you’ve ever uploaded to the web through the years, happy to note that you’ve never posted anything that would hint towards there being a man in your life right now
And really, it isn’t entirely your fault that you’re so open and honest in some of your posts, believing that no one apart from your family and close friends will be reading it, as you had excitedly posted photos of your new apartment last year, writing in the caption how you were eager to start this new chapter of your life, living on your own, all by yourself, not even a dog to keep you company when the floor boards creak at night and branches tap against the windows, just and old blind cat you’d rescued
While your friends had commented on how cute and cozy your decor had been, his own eyes skipped over the overpriced pillows and throws and instead locked on to the windows and doors, noting the standard, or altogether missing, security systems in place
Ghost is thinking about what the easiest way to gain access to your flat’s floor plan would be, he could pretend he’s an interested tenant and reach out to the landlord, hmm but then he’d have to actually talk to someone, something he’s been able to avoid doing so far, avoid leaving any trace- when the sound of the bell ringing above the door lets him know you’ve walked in
Much like last time, his eyes following your figure is the only perceptible movement he allowed himself, guarded by the shadows of his hood over his head, no one would ever be able to notice the steadfast attention he pays to your every single movement
You spend a total of 9 minutes 38 seconds in the cafe this time around, from the time you enter until you’re walking back out with your warm drink in hand, each second being ingrained into Ghost’s mind
A small part of him had almost tried to fool himself in the beginning, attempting to convince himself that this would be enough, learning about a curious little bird from behind a screen and silently watching her bounce around a coffee shop once a week should have been enough to keep his warring mind occupied, to keep the Lieutenant distracted until the higher ups decided enough time had passed to offer him a chance back
That was until, he’d heard you laugh
You were nearly out of the cafe, so close to being an itch he could almost consider satisfyingly scratched and over with, when a woman and her overzealous toddler came bounding round the corner, practically knocking into you with your full arms
But rather than becoming upset at your nearly spilled drink or almost ruined academic papers, you reassured the woman, got down to the tots level to make sure they were alright, and then you laughed with them
Your fucking giggle was to him what children heard when the ice cream truck came driving by, your smile stretching further than it previously had before his eyes, your voice sounding as melodic as the bell above the door did, and that was when Ghost knew, he was fucked
All of the world’s information online couldn’t put into words what he was seeing in front of him with his own two tired eyes; you were sweet
Too sweet, tooth-achingly sweet, sweet enough to trust this cold, dark world and offer it a bright smile in return
He’s seen people killed for far, far less
But not you
He wouldn’t allow such a cruel fate to befall such a darling bird, he wanted to keep you sweet, keep you smiling and giggling without worries of predators watching from the shadows, mouths salivating and jaws itching to clamp down on something soft
Not when you’d flown to close to him twice now, near enough that he can practically feel the wind beneath your wings as you float out of the cafe again, unaware that you’ve stepped into the large, gilded cage that is Ghost’s attention
Another week passes
Ghost takes his curiosity away onto the streets for the first time and counts to sixty before he follows you out of the coffee shop that Sunday, careful to stick close to the buildings and shadows, mingling in with the crowds and keeping a reasonable distance from you as he follows in your steps
He lurks near the crowded bust stop across the street from the moment you walk into your shift at the bookshop, and remains there until the second you step back out hours later, locking up the store behind you and beginning your stroll home
He waits outside your flat, noting which window on the second floor lights up with the soft glow of a lamp not long after you venture into the building, letting him know exactly which one is yours, and which one he’ll be keeping a close eye on from now on
Another week passes
Ghost has most of your routine memorized by now
He knows what time you leave in the morning depending on your classes that day, knows you often don’t make it home until after dark on those days
He knows your shifts at the bookstore every weekend never change, with your Sunday morning visits to the cafe before work being one of the few luxuries you apparently allow yourself
Ghost hangs around your flat often enough that he allows some of the neighbours to begin recognizing him in passing, letting them assume he must live in the building as well
All the better for him really, when the nice older couple doesn’t blink twice as he carefully grumbles about being locked out one night and they grant him their key code to unlock the front doors
Another week passes
Ghost knows you’ve been complaining to your landlord about how the building’s laundry machines are giving you a hard time, though you don’t tell the balding man about how it seems your undergarments are the only thing disappearing from your loads-
He knows where you do your shopping, and how you avoid a certain cashier who never gets the hint when you don’t return his attempts at flirting
He knows your Sunday morning coffee order by heart, knows exactly around what time you’ll be popping into the cafe, always around 8:25am before your 9am shift stocking books six blocks away
Another week passes
Ghost knows you haven’t noticed yet that the nuisance of a cashier at your local grocer hasn’t shown up to work in days now, the Lieutenant having ensured that he wouldn’t be bothering you anymore
He knows you’re running low on panties, considering he has nearly an entire weeks worth of your unwashed garments tucked safely in his nightstand
He knows you’ve started to notice the door leading out to your second storey balcony isn’t always locked when you return home, even though you could have sworn it was secured before you left that morning
He knows you’ve begun to question whether you left that lamp on when you rushed out for school, or if you’d closed your bedroom curtains before bed at night, or where those leftovers in the fridge went-
Ghost knows it’s nearly time to act - his clever bird is slowly catching on as he grows less and less careful, more daring - but it’s on one of those nights that he feels bold enough to slide your balcony door ajar enough for him to slide inside and watch your chest rise and fill with each breath as you sleep peacefully unaware, that his phone rings and nearly ruins everything
It was only in recent weeks that Ghost felt confident enough, or perhaps stupid enough his Captain say, to observe you more closely, taking a more ‘hands-on’ approach. At night, he more often than not occupied the nooks and crannies of your domicile as you tossed and turned in your sleep, mere steps away from the man who simply wished to watch you dream for now
He can’t explain his fascination with you even to himself - it’s as if he awoke one morning to discover he- someone had drilled a hole into his skull and poured your liquid form directly into his cranium
He sometimes wishes you were as easy to catch as a common insect, wishes that he could examine you under a microscope, to pin your extremities down and take a scalpel to your soft flesh to finally peer inside and see what makes you tick- but he knows he must tread lightly, keep you from bleeding out on the table too soon
Always careful and sure of his movements as he inched your bedroom door open that night, he had been preoccupied on watching you for any sudden indication of disturbing and waking you, he’d been entirely caught off guard by the sudden buzzing going off in his pocket
He hadn’t been expecting anything from his cell that night, considering that this was the first sign of life his the device had shown in the month he’d been forced on leave, but he thanked whatever God might still be listening to him that the ringer was off like it always was, saving him from the disaster that would have been his ringtone suddenly waking you just before two o’ clock in the morning to a masked stranger lurking in your doorway
Though the phone call hadn’t woken you, it had startled Ghost enough to throw him off, had him stepping back in surprise and making the near fatal mistake of stepping on one of your cats squeaky toys
The cheap pet store toy goes off in the otherwise deadly silent room, only the light of the moon creeping through your curtains casts a faint glow across your sleeping figure, which to Ghost’s horror, begins to stir softly
Ghost has backed out of your bedroom, slipped out the balcony door, silently shut it behind him and jumped back down onto the street with the agility of a trained professional in their element, all before the call has even been sent to voicemail
He’s ripping the device from his pocket and slamming thick fingers onto buttons as the sudden surge of adrenaline catches up to him- as he realizes just how fucking close that was - daring to glance up and spot a single light turning on in the window he knows is your bedroom
“What?” He asks harshly into the receiver, uncaring to check what the caller ID says- only one person has his cell number anyhow
“I’ll be honest,” The Captain’s accent comes through clear as day, sounding all too chipper for the current time on the clock. “I was expectin’ at least a slightly warmer greetin’ from you.”
“After a month of hearing jack shit from you?” Ghost knows he’s being slightly crueller than he needs to be. He is happy to hear Price’s voice, but the inconvenient timing of this call has him on edge, has him wishing this conversation would end already. His body may be out of your flat, but his mind is still up there with you, wondering if you’ve gone back to sleep yet, if you were convinced it was just the cat moving around at night. “Wha’ is it, Cap?”
There’s silence on the line for a moment, shuffling and the tell-tale sound of the older man letting out a deep sigh as he settles in says, “You’ve been… quiet Ghost. Was expectin’ to have heard from you by now.”
“Ain’t I supposed to be bloody takin’ it easy? As you’d put it? Why would I call when you’re the one that fuckin’ sent me away.” He surprises even himself with his harshness towards a man he holds so much respect for, one of the few people he holds to such a high standard. But the inconvenience of the timing of this call has Ghost on edge, has him uneasy, spitting out any words that will end this call and allow him to let out the breath he feels he’s still holding in.
“Fair ‘nough.” The Captain answers, having already suspected that this would likely not turn into the most joyous of phone calls. “Though for the record, you know it was never my call, Ghost. I pushed against it, vouched for you, they just-” the older man lets another deep sigh before he decides to end that train of thought and get to the point of why he called in the first place. “They’re saying they’re willing to have you come in now, with the time that’s passed. Retake your psych eval. You tell them whatever they want to hear to pass you, and you’re back in, you hear me?”
He can almost picture it, the longer Price goes on
He could pick up the duffel bag he’s had packed and sitting ready by the door since the moment he’d been put on this mandatory leave, drive to base, bullshit his way through whatever fuckin’ questions are meant to determine whether he’s fit for duty or not (even if he risks returning with a mind even darker than when they sent him away-), and be back on the battlefield by the end of the week, gunshots ringing in his ears once more and blood under his fingernails
The thing is however, there’s an itch under his skin he hasn’t been able to scratch yet, a melody stuck on repeat in his mind he hasn’t been able to perfect the tune to quiet yet, a sliver he put into his flesh himself and hasn’t found a way to pry out without making a mess
“Wish it were that simple.” The masked man grumbles under his breath, leaning his head back against the scratchy brick of the building, staring up at the starless sky, the only light he can see is one leading him back towards you
“What was that?” Price attempts to clarify, believing he’s misheard his Lieutenant. From his perspective, this is the news his second in command has been waiting to hear this entire time and he suffered through days of boredom and inactivity. He figured this would be a quick call that ended with his missing task force member returning as soon as possible
“‘Fraid I ain’t quite ready yet, sir. Got something I need to take care of first.”
“You- how do you mean, Ghost?” He asks again, in slight disbelief that the man on the other end of the line isn’t itching to return as he believed he would be.
“Took your advice, Cap. Found a distraction. Can’t go being upset now, to find out I’m distracted.”
It takes him longer than it should, to come up with what he considers as Plan A
Every scenario he dreamt up in his head, every possible meet-cute that could occur, none of it seemed good enough for inserting himself into your life and ensuring his spot became a permanent one
What if he caught you at a bad time and you hardly spared a glance at him?
What if he intimidated you, the way he tended to throw most people off?
What if you found him strange, creepy, scary?
What if you didn’t like him and he ruined any chance he ever had at doing this right?
He couldn’t risk such a thing, not when he intended on keeping you around for a long, long time
He had to ensure that your first meeting went well, was one where you would be just as infatuated with him as he’d been with you
In order for this to work, he had to have you approach him
Either way, he was going to have you, he would just rather if you went willingly and happily
The idea had struck him on a Saturday, as he watched you and your coworker locking up the bookstore one evening, overhearing a snippet of your conversation had a lightbulb appearing above his head
You stood by the shopfront as your coworker tugged on the door handle, making sure it was locked tight for the night, before she mentioned to you; “God, I wish payday wasn’t a week away.”
“Tell me ‘bout it.” You’d agreed, readjusting the strap of your constantly slipping tote bag on your shoulder. “I hope I’ve got enough money in my bank account to cover my coffee tomorrow morning.”
Bingo
He’d shown up to the cafe extra early the next morning, though he always arrived at least a half hour before you did, wanting to fade into the background of the bustling morning crowd before you popped in
He’d considered finding a way to hack your bank cards and have them malfunction, but then thought better of it, curious if he could go about this another way that was less likely to leave a digital footprint
He knew the barista working the counter this morning was a newer hire, hadn’t even been here for a full month yet
He tried to look as non-intimidating as he could as he walked up to her, though that was no easy feat considering his stature alone
He ordered his drink, his fee for being able to occupy the corner table as long as he liked, before he told her he had a strange request to make
He was confident that she wouldn’t tell him no, that she was still new enough to the job that she wouldn’t want to deny a paying customer
He explained that there’d be a woman coming in later, and that he wanted to pay for her order
Ghost could see how the naive girl was almost fooled into believing he was sweet for a moment, perhaps caring even, asking him if he was wanting to start one of those pay it forward trains where everyone pays for the person behind them- before he cut her off
“No.” He’d clarified firmly, seeing her eyes widen only slightly before hastily putting her customer service face back in place. “Only her.”
He said he wanted to her pretend as though your cards weren’t working when you would go to pay- to tell you they had declined or something, before he’d step in and pay for you
“She’s an old friend o’ mine. Haven’t seen her in a while. Was hoping you could help me with this sort o’ … ‘prank’ if you will.”
Any hesitation the woman might have still been harbouring quickly disappeared when a 20£ note was flashed to her
Nearly a half hour later, he watches his plan unfold without a hitch
You think nothing of it the first time the barista tells you your payment didn’t go through, becoming confused when it declines a second time, and increasingly flustered each time after that when every method of payment you have can’t cover your 5£ morning drink
Ghost watches this unfold with a satisfied smirk hidden under his plain medical mask - he thought the balaclava might be a bit too much for your first meeting - enjoying seeing you flounder momentarily, unaware of how everything you know is about to change as he steps closer, extending his gloved hand next to you, close enough to feel your heat radiating through your jacket, before he’s tapping his card against the machine and speaking to you for the first time
“I’ve got tha’ for ya.”
And suddenly, as simple as flicking a switch on, as easy as waking up from a peaceful sleep, Ghost now gets to watch all his hard work pay off right before him, as your eyes meet finally meet his for the first time
He has to actively fight to hear your incessant apologies and thank you’s aimed his way over the thundering of his heart beating in his damaged eardrums, has to refrain himself from grinning as wide as a Cheshire Cat beneath his mask and give himself away too soon
Though his poker experience is usually limited to late nights under foreign stars with the 141, Ghost knows how to play his cards right, especially with you
He turns you down at your first offer to pay him back, letting you stew in the awkward discomfort of a stranger saving your ass in front of other strangers for a moment longer, before you’re saying the exact words he wanted to hear coming from your lips, as though he’d handed you the script himself
“Do you come here often? I just mean that- I come here a lot- sometimes. And if you’re here next time I’m here, then maybe I can pay you back, buy you a drink.”
With a hurried promise to meet him here at this time next week, and a sheepish smile sent his way as you duck out of the busy cafe to head to work, Ghost slips the barista another 20£ in thanks before he’s out of the shop as well, following you from a distance, each step he takes feeling lighter than the next
You can’t keep pretending anymore
Even your friends are starting to take notice
Well, if you can count the people who are forced to spend time with you, your classmates and coworkers, as friends
“You all good over there?” Your colleague asks you as you’re restocking books on the shelves one afternoon, having noticed the way you jumped in surprise when a customer rounded the corner unexpectedly
“Yeah I-” You take a steadying breath, one hand still clutching your frantic heart as it races in your chest. “I’ve just been paranoid recently. Think school’s getting to me.”
You can tell she doesn’t quite believe you, based off the way she’s still looking at you, before she decides to drop the subject for now, going to greet the couple that just walked in
You’re not sure you’d believe yourself either, if you were the one on the outside looking in
While it was true that you were in a particularly busy portion of the semester at the moment, your assignments and grades were unfortunately the furthest thing from your mind
You’d been able to play it off at first, blaming your constantly preoccupied mind and overloaded schedule, how else could you keep forgetting such silly things like turning the lamp off though you could’ve sworn you had- and believing you’d left yourself two slices of pizza when the plate in the fridge obviously only had one on it but wait you only ordered a small and ate half last night how could- and the plants that you knew you kept neglecting suddenly began blooming back to life when you knew you hadn’t watered them in ages
Those strange occurrences, those little blips in your memory were easier to pass off, less difficult to wrestle around in with in your psyche and instead pass off as moments of forgetfulness, a busy student and part time employee with too much on her plate and not enough of a social life
But then things went from being strange, to downright concerning
You knew you had locked the balcony door last night, hell you checked it every damn night, a habit you’d had long before you lived on your own in the middle of a busy city, so why were you not only often finding it unlocked, but one night you found it slightly ajar, the morning breeze rustling the curtains as though they were taunting you step closer
Speaking to some of your other neighbours in passing, none of them had anything close to similar complaints about the laundry machine stealing their undergarments as a price to pay for clean laundry, your panties apparently being the only victims, something you were trying to convince yourself wasn’t as bizarre as it clearly was, especially when you were folding laundry one day and discovered you had quite literally not a single pair of knickers left
And then there were the dreams
If you could even call them that
Dreams where a large, dark stranger creeps into your home, into your bedroom, and simply watches you
Lurks in the corners of your flat and observes your every move, your every breath, never making a single sound, as silent as a ghost
And the stranger never does anything, never says anything, only ever just stands there, until you wake up and you can swear you see his shadow disappearing out of the corner of your eyes as you open them
It doesn’t take long for you to start noticing the shadow when you’re awake too
Disappearing around bends and corners, slipping through grocery aisles and alley ways, blending amongst crowds and backgrounds, vanishing when you turn your head to catch sight of him
You feel like you’re losing your mind
“Why don’t you come out with Jordan and I tonight?” She tries again, coming to drop another box full next to your feet. “Take your mind off of school. We’re going to try that new pub down near Walton Street.”
“I would, but-” You cut yourself off, spotting your manager coming to ring up a customer at the front. The two of you exchange knowing glances and small smiles, knowing your sweet old man of a boss doesn’t truly mind when his employees chit chat together, he says he likes seeing you all getting along, but you still try to keep up appearances
You put your thumb and pinky out to look like a phone before shaking it by your ear, letting your coworker know you’ve got plans for the night as she playfully rolls her eyes at you and mouths “I see, I see” with her hands up in mock surrender, before she’s retreating to gather more boxes from the back
It’s the same plans you’ve had almost every night for going on nearly two weeks now
While it was true that the sudden strange occurrences in your life were preoccupying most of your mind these days, you were still in fact a busy student, and so while you hadn’t entirely forgotten about the stranger you’d promised a coffee to the week prior, you couldn’t hide your genuine surprise at seeing him there that next Sunday
He was sat at a table in the corner, his hands free of any drink, allowing you to pay him back, just as he said he would
What he hadn’t prefaced the last time however, was how quickly he’d make you fall for him
While he might not have been the type of guy you would have originally gone for, unable to deny the intimidating aura that follows him around, you were all too pleased to discover that behind that hardened exterior was someone you got along with without even having to try, discovering he agreed with everything you said, had a lot in common with you, listened attentively to every word you spoke, not to mention he was certainly not hard on the eyes
You weren’t able to sit with him long that morning, explaining to him that the cafe was usually your much needed caffeine stop on your way to work, though you’d walked to the bookstore that morning with a pep in your step, and a new number in your contacts, under the name Simon
It wasn’t even a full 24 hours later when he’d first called you up
You were doing dishes in your flat, getting ready to turn in early that night when your phone rang
You couldn’t help the blush that overtook you at hearing his gravelly voice come through the line, tickling your ear as he apologized for already calling you so soon, he just couldn’t remember the name of that book you’d mentioned yesterday and it was bothering him because he wanted to read it before he saw you again
Next thing you knew, close to three hours had gone by, and you felt like a teenager when you both admitted neither wanted to hang up yet, satisfying one another with a promise to call again soon
Soon, it turns out, was the very next night
And the night after that
And the night after that
And soon, you can Simon were talking on the phone every night before bed, hours and hours racking up as you learned more about each other
It was a nice distraction from the source of your anxieties you refused to fully acknowledge yet, a welcome way to take your mind off the stress you’d been experiencing
If you weren’t already so distracted, you might have been paying just a little closer attention
You might have noticed how skilled he was at deflecting personal question aimed his way, or how he was able to answer without truly answering, always quickly turning the spotlight back to you, making you feel seen and listened to in a way no man had done before, taking the attention away from him time and time again
You might have noticed he agreed with you a little too often, never actually voicing any opinions until he knew what yours was first, never taking a stance unless he knew what yours was
What you really should have noticed was the way he seemed to know things about you that you couldn’t remember telling him, chalking it up to being so tired some nights you must have forgotten sharing that with him
In the end, Simon was saying all the right things at the right time, and you were all too happy to hear what you wanted to hear
It was barely ten minutes passed 9 when you were turning the key in the lock for the night, making sure the doors wouldn’t budge before you tightened your hold on your bag and began the trek home, the butterflies in your stomach begin to flutter at the thought of hearing Simon’s voice through the phone soon enough
Luckily, you were only about eight blocks away from home, and the summer sun had only just begun setting as the last of the customers were dwindling out of the shop, meaning you weren’t walking in total darkness quite yet
Yet somehow, something in the air tonight felt different, had the hairs on the back of your neck rising as though anticipating a predator lurking around the corner, ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey
You tried you continue convincing yourself you were nothing short of delusional, paranoid, that watching too many true crime docs was getting to you
But then, just as you were waiting for the pedestrian crossing sign to change, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your shadow
You whipped your head around too quickly, straining your neck but desperate to catch a glimpse and prove you weren’t crazy, but as always, there was no one there
The small crowd around you began crossing the street, unaware of the adrenaline begin to course through your veins as you hobbled along with them, noticing with regret that no one else continued in the direction you would have to turn, leaving you to traverse the next few blocks alone
You hurried your pace, trying to shake the undeniable feeling of something being wrong, when for the first time, you heard your shadow
Light footsteps that grew heavier the more you paid attention to them, the kind that weren’t casually strolling by as you might have hoped, but rather were on a determined path, and to your utter fear, were gaining speed
You never once dared turn your head this time, fear convincing you that should you stop and look back, he would be right there over your shoulder, a shadow coming to life just in time to take yours away
With your building in sight, you said fuck it and broke out into a sprint, hurrying towards the main doors and frantically entering in your code before the worst fo your fears could come true, never glancing back as the doors unlocked and you made a mad dash inside and up the stairs
You were barely through your apartment door before your phone was in your hand, dialling the last number you’d called, the only number you called these days
He answered before the first ring had finished
“‘ello?”
“Simon.” You hated the way your voice sounded, trembling around his name and giving away the clear distress you were in, but you couldn’t help it. Your poor heart was racing a mile a minute, you had tears threatening to spill over your lash line at any moment, you were trembling like a leaf and wanted to seek out the only comfort you’d had recently
“Wha’s wrong?” He immediately asked, evidently hearing your panic through the phone
“Simon, I just-” you let out a gasp, no longer in control of the tears that were starting to run down your cheeks. You double, triple checked the lock on your door was secured before on trembling legs, you slowly made your way towards the balcony doors, blood running cold when you spotted the latch undone. “I know this sounds insane but I really need you, I- I swear someone’s been following me and I think he’s outside my flat and I- I’m so scared Simon I don’t-”
“You’re alrigh’ love.” He cut off your rambling, the confidence in his voice lending you a sliver of strength for a moment. “Jus’ breathe, yeah? I’ll be righ’ there.”
True to his word, Simon is knocking at your flat door in less than four minutes, another anomaly you would have noticed had you not been in such a frantic state of mind
“It’s me love. Jus’ me.” You hear his voice say through the door, standing up on tip toes to peer through the peephole and confirm for your own peace of mind that it really truly is your knight in shining armour, hardly paying any mind to the fact that this is the first time you see him without a mask on the lower half of his face
You’re practically banging the door against the wall as you swing it open in a hurry to get him inside, grabbing him by his jacket to pull his figure closer to yours, barely giving him a chance to shut it behind him before you’re clinging to him like a lost pet whose been returned to their owner
You can hear him shushing you, a large hand coming to soothe your hair as another grabs you by the waist and holds you tighter, trying to reassure you between your sobs that you’re alright, that he’s here now, that you’re always safe with him
There’s a fleeting moment where you can’t help but think about how this isn’t you, how you’ve always been fiercely independent, how you’ve never needed to rely on others for comfort before, let alone a man you met all of two weeks ago, but the thought is gone just as quickly as it appeared, when Simon pulls back to hold your face gently in both of his hands, thumbs carefully rubbing tears off your cheeks as he looks at you with such sincerity, you couldn’t care less if you’ve known him for two weeks or two years, right now you just need someone to tell you everything is okay, that you’re not insane
He leads you towards the couch, planting you sideways across his lap as he leans your head on his shoulder and rubs a soothing hand across your back
“Now, try again, love. Tell me wha’s happened.”
And when he’s asking you so sweetly, touching you so nicely in a way no one has in who knows how long, how could you every deny him?
You tell him everything, all of it, the bizarre coincidences you can no longer explain away, the strange happenings that you cannot chalk up to forgetfulness, the odd feeling of being constantly watched you cannot shake, you tell him all of it
And Simon, he listens to it all, every concern of yours, every worry you’d had, he nods along showing you he’s listening, never interrupting you, always rubbing some part of your skin to let you know he’s here, he’s here and he’s got you
By the end of it, you’re no longer crying, your heart has begun to slow to a more normal rhythm, the goosebumps dotting your skin only a result of the large man caressing you as you avoid dribbling snot onto his jumper
“You must think I’m crazy, right? I- I even think I sound crazy.” You admit, avoiding looking at him as you pick at a loose thread on his collar
“Not at all, love.” His words have your eyes lifting to meet his, finding nothing but honesty in his steady gaze.
“W-what?”
“Said I believe you.” He reiterates, giving your hip a slight squeeze before he’s dragging his fingers down across your thigh, rubbing soothing strokes against your flesh. “Everythin’ you jus’ told me, I don’ wanna scare you bird, but I think you migh’ be righ’. Sounds like someone’s been followin’ ya.”
He must see it in your face, the way your heart practically drops to the floor at his words, because he’s gripping the meat of your thigh a little tighter, opening his mouth to continue before you can spiral further
“But you’re so smart, love. You did exactly the righ’ thing, callin’ me. You knew I wouldn’ let anythin’ happen to ya. I’m here now, I’ve got ya.”
His words are akin to stepping into a steaming warm bath at the end of a gruelling day, the exact comfort you needed in that moment, easing you slowly back into a state of calm, though you don’t feel quite out of the woods yet
“Let me take care of ya, huh? Here, follow me.” He gives your thigh one last squeeze before he’s helping you back up onto more stable legs, never going without at least on hand touching you as he guides you towards your balcony door, making a show of peering outside for any lurking dangers before he snaps the lock in place and draws the curtains shut
“C’mon, let’s check all your windows, eh? Can’t be too sure.”
And so you follow him room to room, watching him with growing gratitude as he goes from window to window, ensuring it’s properly shut and locked before moving onto the next, scanning each room for any sign of a disturbance, letting you know everything is clear each time, until there’s only one door left to go through
Simon inches the door to your bedroom open with the toe of his boot, letting it hit the wall before he steps inside, doing a full scan before he nods towards you to follow him in
You take a seat at the end of your bed as you watch him move through your space, checking your window and closing your curtains, even going as far as to open your closet and peek under the bed, something that forces a fleeting smile on your face in spite of the circumstances
“Think that’s everythin’, birdie.” He admits, coming to sit down next to you on the bed, thighs touching, his muscled arm sneaking around your shoulders to pull you into him. “My brave girl. You’ve been goin’ through all this by yourself, huh?”
“Mhm.” You confirm, feeling too exhausted after the rush of emotions and adrenaline let down to say anything more, too tired to notice the way he’s taken to calling you his all of a sudden, especially when Simon’s embrace is so warm, so inviting
“Poor bird. Must’ve been so scary, not knowing who’s out there.” He coos into your ear, brushing your hair back from your neck, letting you feel his hot breath against your skin. “Aren’t you so glad you called? That I’m ‘ere now?”
“Mhm. Thank you, Simon.” You murmur, the events of the day really catching up to you now
“You never have to thank me, love. I’m here with ya. Not goin’ anywhere.” You feel your lashes flutter shut when his chapped lips come to press a chaste kiss to your temple, as gentle as a butterflies wings as this behemoth of a man comforts you. “You jus’ let me take care of ya now, love. Let me make it all better. Make ya feel good.”
There’s a fraction of a second where your mind catches back up to you, where logic floats up to the surface of your consciousness when you feel Simon’s hand sneak under your shirt, something on the tip of your tongue about how this is only the third time you meet face to face, how you haven’t gone on a proper date yet, how you’ve only known him two weeks-
Any common sense flies out the window however when his lips connect with yours
As his calloused fingers manage to rid you of your top before tangling in your hair, your own are grasping on tightly at his collar, allowing him to take control of the kiss, to take control of the situation, to do as he’s promised and make you feel good, make you forget about everything that’s had you so on edge and allow yourself to be taken care of
Simon hasn’t steered you wrong so far, has he? He’s been nothing but kind, nothing but attentive, nothing but sweet and caring and present and-
Fuck can he kiss
Your heart is racing for an entirely different reason as his fingers reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall haphazardly amongst your sheets before he’s pulling his lips off of yours, kissing and nipping along your jaw, your neck, down your collarbone and sternum until his hot breath is tickling one of your nipples and he sucks it gently into his mouth, teeth playfully skimming the raised bud
You can’t help the way you melt like putty in his hands, unknowingly as touch starved as he is, unable to hold back the sounds of your enjoyment when his other hand comes up to tweak your neglected breast, squeezing and pinching until it’s as taut as the one he’s still slobbering all over
Your fingers are pulling at the fabric of his jumper, arching into his touch and gasping when he lets your breast go with a ‘plop’, before his mouth is trailing wet kisses down your sternum, down your stomach, before his skilled fingers are tugging down your pants
“No panties, hm?” You never could have imagined his voice could be deeper than it already was, but the sound of his gravelly accent has chills running up your spine, blush deepening when you see the dark look in his eyes as he peers down at your bare, weeping slit
You have half a mind to explain that you haven’t had time to run to the shops and replace all your missing knickers, but quickly lose any sense of time and place when his broad shoulders are pushing themselves between your thighs, opening them up for his head to drop down and his lips to wrap around your throbbing clit
You can feel him smirk against your folds at the sound you let out, something between a moan and a gasp, before he’s pulling out more delicious noises from you with his tongue alone
“Mmm, you really do taste as good as you look.” He murmurs against your dripping folds, eyes dancing with mischief before his lips are on you again
You feel like your entire being has been pulled apart and put back together in the blink of an eye, your would be stalker having you fearing for your life, and now Simon having you holding on for dear life
You can both hear and feel him groaning against your pussy, licking up your arousal, probing his skilled tongue around your entrance before plunging it as deep as the muscle will go, reminiscent of a man starved as he devours you from the inside out, with no sign of being satiated any time soon
“Simon!” You plead, toes curling, legs shaking. You can hardly believe this is happening, that you’re on the precipice of cumming on this man’s tongue so soon, when suddenly his thumb sneaks down and slides across your clit engorged clit, rubbing steady circles until you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids, eyes rolling to the back of your head and his name the only word you know as you fall headfirst off that cliff known as ecstasy
You’re gasping for breath, still coming back to yourself when he finally pulls himself away, licking his lips as though this was a five star meal he’s just tasted, the look in his eyes telling you he’s likely to be a returning customer
With the way he’s brought you to orgasm faster than any vibrator ever has, you’re hardly in any place to protest when you hear the sound of his belt being undone, his zipper being pulled down, a ringing in your ears when your eyes land on his throbbing, erect member
You barely get a chance to gasp at its size before Simon is on you again, strong hands dragging you further up the mattress before he’s kissing you senseless yet again
You can feel him pumping his cock with one hand as he takes his time tasting you, having you taste yourself on his tongue
He pulls one of your legs up around his waist, opening your centre up to him before you can feel the head of his prick sliding through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit until you’re practically shaking, rolling your hips up against him
He’s swallowing your gasp when he notches himself at your entrance, wasting no time before he’s sinking himself inch by devastating inch, plunging further and further than you thought was possible, until he’s all the way in, hips flush with yours as he’s sheathed himself completely inside you, a perfect fit
While sweet might have been a word you used for the Simon who talks to you on the phone at all hours, who buys you coffee when your cards decline, you cannot bring yourself to believe that that same sweet Simon is the same man who begins thrusting in and out of you with such vigour, such force, it knocks the breath right out of your lungs as your headboard begins banging against the wall
“Fuck!” He’s grunting in your ear, the sounds of skin slapping and your wetness squelching echoing in the room. “Fuckin’ knew it. Knew you’d be this tight. So warm, so wet for me. Perfect fuckin’ pussy.”
“Simon! Oh, Simon!” His name is the only word your lips can make sense of, the only thing your mind can understand. You’re already headed towards another climax, your body feeling like an instrument he’s spent years mastering the art of playing
“Yeah, you gonna come again, pretty bird? Come on my cock? Just for me?” He’s picking up his pace, intent of meeting you there with his own release, grip tightening on your waist as he plunges in and out of you, feeling your tight walls increasingly gripping his cock. “Say it. Say it’s just for me. Say it.”
“It- it’s for you. Just for you, Simon! You!”
“Fuckin’ righ’ it is. My perfect girl.” He praises, sucking dark purple circles onto your neck, fingers unrelenting in their teasing against your clit. “You want it, pretty girl? Then fuckin’ take it.”
Your vision goes white, body practically going numb the pleasure is so all consuming as it shoots through every nerve ending and back, every star in the galaxy appearing before your eyes as you come on his cock. You’re so lost in your orgasm, you hardly notice when he groans out your own name, hips stilling as he shoots his load into you, rutting helplessly against your overused cunt to drag out every second of ecstasy, making sure you take very last drop he has to give you
If you were exhausted before, you’re practically dead to the world now, uncaring that Simon doesn’t even pull out his softening member as he maneuvers the two of you under the covers, smoothing your hair back as he kisses all over your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips
He rubs soothing hands up and down your naked back, telling you how good you did, how good you are for him, how good he’ll be for you, before he’s reaching to turn your lamp off, casting the two of you into darkness as sleep fights to drag you under
You’re on the brink of slumber, too spent to really think about anything that’s transpired tonight, though just conscious enough to feel the smallest of alarms try and go off in the back of your foggy mind at Simon’s words, the last of your self preservation instincts trying to weave its way to the front of your mind, waving the red flag as high as it’ll go
“Good thing I came over soon as you called. Who knows what could’ve happened.”
Your eyes snap open
You’d never told Simon where you lived
~~~~~
If you’ve made it this far, I’d like to offer you a sticker of appreciation
Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! Thank you for your patience on this fic, I cannot even tell you how many times I felt like this story was ready to be posted, but I’d reread it and wouldn’t be satisfied with how it was. This is probably the draft I’ve spent the most time on, and so again I really appreciate the patience in waiting for the upload
But here she is!!! And I hope she was worth the wait
I know this is different from the usual fluff I post, both with a darker Ghost and smut still not being my forte, but I really do sincerely hope this part 2 was everything you guys hoped for! I had a lot of fun writing it, turned into one of my longest ones, and now I’m excited to get to my inbox and answer more requests from you lovely folks
- M 🫶🏻
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#cod simon ghost riley#cod simon riley#readwritealldayallnight
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Gusts and Beats Vol.1
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something i feel like we don’t talk about nearly enough is the fact that percy is healed by water.
it’s so normal to us because it’s one of the first abilities we discovered he has. and it makes complete sense. but like… he’s the only demigod with that ability. jason doesn’t get healed by a gust of wind. hazel doesn’t get healed if she touches a diamond. nico doesn’t get healed if a skeleton gives him a hug. annabeth doesn’t get healed if she walks into a library.
like percy could be stabbed in the chest multiple times, he could break every bone in his body, he could be slammed in the head resulting in a crushed skull and hemorrhaging, but get him to some water fast enough and not only is he good as new in no time, but he’s stronger and freshly rejuvenated.
it’s insane when you think about it. no one else can do that. do you know how hard it is to kill percy? even if he’s not near the ocean, he can be healed by rivers and lakes and streams and ponds and all sorts of water sources. water recharges him. it makes him immediately stronger.
that’s a huge reason why i argue percy is the most powerful demigod. yes, he’s shown he has incredible super strength and super speed. yes, he’s a legendary sword fighter - arguably the best one alive. yes, he has control over air, land, and sea. (deadly hurricanes with heavy winds and thunder and lightning, huge volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, etc.) yes, he’s capable of mass destruction. yes he can single handedly cause natural disasters and mass casualties. and yes, he’s capable of controlling people’s bodily fluids, including their blood and saliva. he is terrifying
but even if someone manages to beat him, he dips one toe in some water and he’s immediately healed and even stronger than before. whether the injury is internal or external. he’s healed all on his own. no ambrosia or nectar or external remedies necessary.
guys. percy is insane. he’s way overpowered.
and i love it.
#we don’t talk about this enough#he can literally heal himself#like it’s actually so unfair to everyone else#percy is insane#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus#percabeth#pjo#jason grace#nico di angelo#hazel levesque#annabeth chase
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sin creeps in ; Nosferatu x Reader
summary: You're plagued by heinous nightmares of a mysterious monster, but you can't help but feel drawn to he who plagues you.
word count & w a r n i n g s: 1.5K | female reader, monster fucking, vampires, vampire sex, bloodplay, biting, drinking blood / blood loss, mentions of death, making out, smut, unprotected sex, mentions of accents, shadow play (fingering)????.
a/n: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR NOSFERATU 2024! this is just.... listen, I'm not even going to try to justisfy myself. rack up yet another hear me out moment for me. you either understand or you don't. shorter than I wanted it to be, but I needed to get this out and sate my hunger. banner by @/strangergraphics!
↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
You awake with a strangled gasp, your hands flying to your throat as your breath gradually returns. The nightmares had roused you, as they had every night, but this time, something lingered. Your room was frigid; the gauzy curtains fluttered in front of the open window like misplaced ghosts, allowing the chill of the night to penetrate your quarters. Everything looks terrifying at night; familiar shapes are transformed into horrible spectres, and your very room feels unknown. Unsafe.
He is here. For the first time in several nights, you weren’t dreaming – he has come for you.
“I know that you are here with me,” you bravely whisper into the emptiness of your own bedroom. The wind whistled, a familiar sound, but something growled – growled in a language you didn’t speak, but understood. The voice was low, gravelly, and heavily accented.
Hurriedly, you kick the sheets from your legs. The moonlight pales your skin, washing you in its blanch, bluish tone. Gripping your gown with both hands, you gather it up your thighs, exposing them to the cold. The chill of the wind hits your center, and you hiss through your teeth. Your head drops to your chest, and so does your gaze, watching patiently. At the edge of your bed, a large, slender shadow manifests. Him.
You dare not look up. The feeling of his presence petrifies you, but also arouses you – letting a slick warmth pool deeply between your legs.
The shadows continue to creep further up your bed, until they reach your feet, which twitch in response. Up, up, up… along your shins. Your skin prickles, and you shiver, doing your best to remain calm. Though he doesn’t touch you, you feel him. You feel every pass of his large hand as it makes its way up your body. His shadow glides over your hip, to your stomach and finally between your plump breasts, coming to a stop over your beating heart. It thumps away like a rabbit’s heart underneath the blackness of his form, and you hear a ragged, strained groan.
Then, with no warning, it moves down, leaving a cold, lifeless chill in its path like a gust of winter wind. You pant, desperately clinging to what breath you have. All at once, the shadow envelopes the soft, warm mound between your legs and your hands fall to the bed, bracing yourself. You have felt his ghostly touches for countless nights, tasting your body as a lover would, but each time your body climbed the peak, the sensations disappeared. He comes to you in dreams, always leaving you unsatisfied. Your chest heaves in the night, cold droplets of sweat peppering your decollete and breasts. Your hands claw the sheets while you dream, but never reach euphoria.
Tonight, there are new sensations. The phantom wisp of his middle finger runs along the length of your slit. Grazing it. Somehow, you feel his finger part your wet folds, toying with your most sensitive areas. The nonexistent pads of his fingers sweep back and forth over your swelling clit, bringing a spasmodic twitch from each of your muscles. Wanting. Craving. While the sensation lacks the familiar warmth of a living man, it is bountiful with pleasurable feelings – your body responds embarrassingly; your shoulders shudder violently.
He inhales, a deeply hollow sound. “You desire this… thine own body craves it….”
The accent seems to fill his entire mouth, rumbling in his throat as he speaks slowly, drawing out each word like an incantation. You let out a plaintive moan, throwing your head back against the pillows, the down feathers crackling underneath you. As though he’s still pleasuring you, your hips writhe back and forth, practically convulsing with need. The shadow of his hand is gone from your body, replaced by the looming darkness of his physical form. After a moment of trepidation, you finally lift your head, and stare into the dark, terrifying eyes that watch you.
You swallow hard. “I do.”
A moment passes before you continue. “Take me as you will, for I am yours.” You consent again, desperate to convey your own insatiable hunger, your unimaginable need.
Another intake of breath from him – it almost sounds labored, painful. His footsteps are dreadful as he moves around to the side of your bed. He’s tall, his form stretching towards the ceilings and towering over you, consuming your atmosphere as he had in your nightmares. His silhouette is large; enhanced by the countless furs he has on.
Weightlessly, his lithe, ghastly fingers reach for you and make contact with your form. They are cold, and the icy feeling of them penetrate the thin fabric of your nightgown. He moves gradually, but hungrily, feeling the curves of your body beneath the cotton. As he moves southward, his fingers skim over the peak of your breast, a nail catching on the swollen nipple. It hurts, but your chest jerks forward still, craving more of his touch.
Pulling a breathy moan from deep within your throat, his long, sharp nails rake across the tender flesh of your thigh. It’s bathed in the silvery moonlight, which casts horrible, elongated shadows of his fingers down towards your center. He scrapes downward, his middle finger digging into the flesh enough to leave a reddened streak behind, but not so much to break the skin.
“P-please…” you mewl, looking up into his horrifying visage. The sight of him fills you with dread and disgust, but like a single drop of blood in water, it’s tainted with something else, something else that has been lingering in your system for days.
He’s above you now, though you don’t remember seeing him move atop of you. Still, he’s there. The bed creaks as you push yourself into the mattress, whimpering underneath him. He lowers himself down onto you, the brush of his mustache tickles your face as he lingers above you. A second passes and his waiting mouth envelops yours. He tastes damp and cold, faintly of ash and earth. His tongue slips out and it too is cold, slipping wetly along your own and along your bottom lip. His kiss is dreadful, but possessive, and he inhales each time you exhale, as though he’s trying to suck the very warmth out of you. No man has kissed you the way Count Orlok kisses you, and the chill of the room disappears, snuffed out by the fire that rages in your lower abdomen.
Your tongues collide with each other; you tasting his lifelessness, and him tasting your utterly intoxicating, vibrant liveliness. For a moment, the two of you stay intertwined at the mouth until he separates himself, smearing his mouth over the warmth of your neck. He hovers, pausing over your pulse. It thrums under his lips, and his hips urge into yours, indicating his hunger.
There is a shuffle, a rustling of clothing. You try to lift your head up to gaze between your bodies, but his hand holds you fast, pressing you against the pillow. The size of his hand is staggering; his palm underneath your chin, while the fingertips extend past your hairline, into the strands. You shudder again and whisper his name. He inhales as though he plans to speak, but doesn’t.
The front of your nightgown falls apart, revealing your chest to him. With one hand covetously clutching your breast, his mouth opens between your breasts, the slithery coolness of his tongue gliding down along the length of your sternum. As the teeth puncture your flesh, your hands make fists on either side of your body, pulling the sheets into the confines of your palms. He enters you, in more ways than one, and you feel the steady tug of his mouth as he sucks the blood from your veins. Warmth pools in the cave of your stomach.
The fingers of his other hand crawl up your shoulder, and like a quill in ink, he dips the pads of his fingers into the hollow of your chest, coating them in your crimson essence. He smears the blood along your decollete, along the hem of your nightgown, tugging it harshly over your shoulder. The blood coats you in a flash of warmth, and then chill as it meets the cold air.
His hips rut against yours as he drinks, the pulse of your blood matching the thrust of his hips. An ache starts in your neck, a slow pulling sensation that has your eyelids fluttering. He moves within you, his length penetrating as deeply as his sharpened teeth have. Your release is found amongst blood and groans and that same language which you understand, but do not speak. His tongue scrubs at your soft skin, lapping up the blood as it comes… as you do.
The darkness is ever-looming, and as your aching cunt ebbs its throbbing, it settles down upon you. You let yourself fall backwards into the abyss, freely. It takes you, wrapping its arms around your tiny frame which is dwarfed by his stature. His mouth breaks free of your bloodied skin with a slick pop. Into the softness of your skin, you hear him growl, ‘Mine.’ The feeling vibrates against your neck, and your lids flutter shut.
#this is kind of mild for me in terms of smut but I really couldn't get as graphic as I usually do. it felt... inappropriate to the aestheti#nosferatu x reader#nosferatu x you#count orlok x reader#count orlok x you#nosferatu 2024#nosferatu#count orlok#vampire x reader#monster x reader#monster x human#vampires#myfics#vampirism#bill skarsgard#bill skarsgård#bill skarsgard fanfiction
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You are mine..
Pairings: Geum Seongje x Fem!Reader
Summary: You’re visiting your boyfriend with take out food.
Warnings: contains themes of possessive behavior, verbal harassment and aggressive confrontation
The hum of computers filled the air like static electricity, punctuated by sharp keyboard taps and the muffled voices of online matches. Rows of boys hunched over screens, locked into the glowing haze of the digital world. At the very back, in the only booth dimly lit by a flickering LED, sat Geum Seongje.
His headset was pushed halfway off, resting just above one ear. His fingers danced over the keys, fluid and precise, eyes never straying from the screen. A cold energy surrounded him—focused, quiet, untouchable. It was the kind of stillness that made people instinctively avoid him. That, and the reputation that trailed him like a shadow.
But then the door creaked open, letting in a gust of warm night air… and you.
You stepped inside with a paper bag cradled in your arms, the scent of fried chicken and garlic wafting after you. Your eyes scanned the booths before landing on him. His head snapped up the moment your shoes crossed into his aisle, as if he’d sensed you before he saw you.
Seongje straightened slightly in his chair, removing the headset entirely. His dark eyes locked onto yours—sharp, unreadable, but warmer than anything else in that place.
“You came,” he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel beneath velvet.
“I brought you dinner,” you replied, smiling as you held the bag toward him.
He didn’t say thanks. He never really did. But he reached out and took it, letting your fingers brush—on purpose.
You were mid-laugh, about to ask how many matches he’d won, when a voice from two rows over cut through the moment.
“Damn… now that’s a meal I’d rather take home.”
You froze.
The laughter that followed was louder, smug, careless. One of the boys, tall, leaning back in his chair, feet propped on his desk—was staring straight at you. His smirk widened when your eyes met his.
Seongje didn’t move right away. He stared at his monitor for a beat longer, expression unreadable.
Then, with an almost eerie calm, he stood.
The silence that followed was heavier than the sound of a thousand keystrokes. He didn’t rush. He walked slowly toward the boy, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly.
You called out his name once, softly. He ignored it.
“Wanna say that again?” he asked, tone deceptively casual. There was no trace of a threat in his voice—just a low murmur, dangerously quiet.
The guy snorted. “It’s a compliment, bro. Chill out.”
That was a mistake.
Seongje leaned down, close enough to speak directly in the boy’s ear. “You open your mouth about her again,” he said, “and you’ll be picking your teeth off this floor.”
The guy blanched. “Alright, alright—damn—just joking—”
“Say it again,” Seongje pressed. “See what happens.”
The air felt colder than the café’s busted A/C unit.
He turned without waiting for a response, grabbed your wrist, not hard, but firm and pulled you gently through the aisles. You didn’t resist. You just followed, heart hammering in your chest.
Outside, the night wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. Streetlamps buzzed overhead, flickering against the shadows. Seongje didn’t let go of your hand until you were halfway down the alley behind the café, where the only sounds were distant traffic and the faint clatter of dishes from a nearby restaurant.
He finally stopped, exhaling sharply.
“You okay?” you asked, still catching your breath.
He didn’t answer at first. His eyes were on the ground. His jaw clenched tight.
“You shouldn’t come here alone,” he muttered. “Not dressed like that. Not around guys like them.”
“I came for you.”
“That’s not the point.”
You stepped closer. “Then what is?”
He looked up, and there was something raw in his expression—something he usually kept buried beneath that cold, effortless front. “You don’t get it,” he said. “When I heard him say that, when I saw the way he looked at you…”
You reached for his hand again. “I don’t care about him. I only care about—”
He kissed you before you could finish.
It wasn’t a question or a whisper. It was a firecracker going off between your ribs. His lips were warm, his grip on your waist tighter than you expected, almost like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on. The kiss was hungry, a mix of frustration and something more—something vulnerable.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. His breath fanned your skin.
“You’re mine,” he said quietly. “I don’t share. I don’t want anyone looking at you like that. Ever.”
You nodded, not trusting your voice.
And he kissed you again.
Slower this time.
#weak hero class two#weak hero class 1#geum seong je#seongje geum#geum seongje x reader#seongje geum x reader
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How do the LADS men react when they catch you reading smut. 🫣 Part 4
I present to you brat tamer Zayne, enjoy!!
TW: Smut
Part 1 (Xavier)
Part 2 (Caleb)
Part 3 (Sylus)
Part 5 (Rafayel)

You step into the cozy restaurant, the warmth of the interior a stark contrast to the biting winter chill outside. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafts through the air, making your mouth water. You spot Zayne already seated at your usual table by the window, he looks up as you approach, hazel green eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat.
"Sorry I'm late," you apologize, sliding into the seat across from him.
"It's fine, I already ordered the usual is that ok?"
You nod, smiling warmly at Zayne as you take off your coat and drape it over the back of the chair. "That's perfect, thank you."
"How's work? I'm glad we could squeeze in this lunch date today, I've really missed seeing your face these past couple of days, Zayne." You offer him a playful smile, your cheeks flushing slightly as your eyes meet his intense gaze.
You listen intently as Zayne speaks, noticing the slight furrow in his brow and the weariness in his voice. "Busy" doesn't even begin to cover it, you think to yourself. He's been running himself ragged at the hospital, pouring every ounce of his brilliant mind and skilled hands into saving lives. It's what he does, what he lives for - but it also means long hours, missed meals, and precious little sleep.
As the waiter arrives with your shared meal, you dive in enthusiastically, savoring each bite. About halfway through, Zayne's phone begins to buzz on the tabletop. He glances down at the screen, his brow furrowing with apology as he meets your gaze.
"I'm so sorry love, but I need to take this call. It's one of the surgeons from the cardiac ward." He stands up, already moving towards the entrance of the restaurant. "I'll just be a moment." Over his shoulder he tosses a reassuring smile your way before stepping outside, the door swinging shut behind him.
You quickly finish the rest of your meal, knowing that your stolen moment with Zayne is fast slipping away. As you set down your utensils with a soft clink, the restaurant door swings open, ushering in a gust of cold air and Zayne's tall frame.
He strides over to you, his expression a mix of apology and urgency. "I'm so sorry about that. A patient's condition took a turn and I need to get back to the hospital immediately." He reaches for his coat, already shrugging it on as he speaks. "I'll give you a ride back to the Deepspace HQ, if that works for you. I know it's not ideal, but..." He trails off, hazel eyes filled with regret as they meet yours.
You feel a flicker of annoyance spark through you at the interruption, your voice reflecting a hint of that irritation as you respond. "Fine, Zayne. A ride back is fine." You start gathering your belongings and you slip your arms back into your coat with a sigh.
"I understand your work is important, but..." You pause, meeting his gaze with a pointed look. "I thought we could have a bit more time together today. Just the two of us." The words come out with a slight edge, betraying your disappointment at the cut-short lunch date. Still, you know better than anyone the gravity of his responsibilities at the hospital.
Swallowing your frustration, you offer him a small smile. "But of course, your patients need you. Let's get going." With that, you stand up, ready to follow him out to the car.
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As Zayne starts the car, the engine purring to life beneath you, you settle into the passenger seat and fasten your seatbelt with a soft click, the interior is warm and cozy. You turn to face him, ready to strike up a conversation, eager to catch up on the lost time. But before you can utter a word, his phone begins to ring once more, the shrill tone piercing the relative quiet of the car.
You let out a sigh, feeling your shoulders slump slightly as you lean back against the leather seat. Zayne glances over at you apologetically, one hand gripping the steering wheel.
It's been too long since you've had Zayne to yourself, too many nights spent aching for his touch, for the feeling of his skin against yours. The phone rings again, a second time, the sound grating on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. You know his work is vital, lives literally depend on his brilliance and skill, but damn it, don't you deserve some of his time too? Don't you need him just as desperately?
As Zayne answers his phone, you hear the concern in his voice, the urgency in his tone. You know instantly that this call is going to take longer than the short ride back to HQ, and that your chance to catch up, to steal a few intimate moments, is slipping away once more. With a sigh, you reach into your bag and pull out your headphones, you take your phone from your pocket, tapping the audiobook app open with your thumb. You click on a novel you bought recently, a romance story that had drawn you in from the very first chapter, a tale of love and passion that you had been eager to lose yourself in. You tap the play button, the soothing voice of the narrator filling your ears as you settle back into the leather seat, letting the story unfold around you.
Suddenly, you remember the part where you left off, the male and female leads, both strong willed and passionate, had been locked in a heated argument. Their voices, filled with frustration and unspoken emotions.
You listen intently, feeling the intensity of their disagreement, the way their words cut through the air like a knife. But as quickly as it began, the tone shifts. The anger in their voices softens, replaced by a charged silence that hangs heavy with unspoken desires. You hold your breath, feeling the tension building between them.
Suddenly, in a moment that catches you off guard, their fight turns into something else entirely. The passion behind their words transforms, morphing into a raw hunger that you can feel through the speakers. Their argument turns into a battle of a different sort, a war of touch, taste and need.
You sit up straighter in your seat, your heart starting to race as the scene unfolds in your headphones. The male lead's dominant actions send a shiver down your spine, his forceful yet tender touches painting a vivid picture in your mind. You feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you listen to the female protagonist's breathy gasps and needy whimpers, her body responding to his skilled ministrations.
A sudden ache throbs between your thighs, a longing that you didn't even realize you had been suppressing. The way he takes control, commanding her body and mind, ignites something deep within you. His dominance, his raw masculinity, the way he makes her his... it's everything you've been craving without even realizing it. Your fingers clutch at the hem of your shirt, your knuckles turning white as you grip the fabric tightly. The car feels hotter now, the air thick with a tension that mirrors the scene playing out in your imagination.
You feel Zayne's fingers tap gently on your arm, the sensation jolting you out of the heated scene unfolding in your mind. Startled, you jump slightly, your heart pounding in your chest as you turn to face him. With a slightly trembling hand, you remove one of your headphones, allowing his voice to filter through the lingering echoes of the audiobook.
"We've arrived" Zayne says, his deep voice cutting through the haze of your lustful thoughts. You blink up at him, realizing that in your distraction, you hadn't even noticed the car coming to a stop outside the towering building that houses your workplace.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were already here," you murmur, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks.
"Thank you for the ride," you say reaching for the door handle. As you step out of the car, the chilly winter air hits your flushed skin and you pull your coat tighter around you.
Before you close the passenger door you hear him call your name again. "Y/N, wait," he calls out, his deep voice reaching your ears as he mutes his phone call "Don't forget, you have an appointment scheduled with me today for your monthly check-up."
You nod, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips. "I know, I haven't forgotten. I'll be there, Dr. Zayne," you roll your eyes at him as you close the door. The way his title slips from your tongue feels strangely intimate.
You slip your headphone back into your ear, eager to catch the last few minutes of the heated scene unfolding in your audiobook. The narrator's deep, soothing voice fills your ear once more as you turn to walk towards the headquarters building. You have about twenty minutes left of your lunch break, and you're determined to make the most of that time
As you walk, you reach into your coat pocket to retrieve your phone, intending to rewind the last few minutes of the audiobook that you had missed. However, as your fingers search the depths of your coat, a sense of unease begins to creep in. Your phone, usually nestled securely in your pocket, is nowhere to be found. You pause on the sidewalk, patting at your other pockets, a growing sense of panic rising in your chest.
Suddenly, the narrator's voice falls silent in your ears, the audiobook coming to an abrupt end as your headphone loses its connection to your misplaced device. The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, in your distracted state, in the haze of lust and longing that the audiobook had induced, you must have left your phone behind in Zayne's car.
"Fuck"
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Later that day, you find yourself sitting in the modern waiting room outside Zayne's office, your knee bouncing nervously as you await your monthly check-up. The white walls and the faint scent of disinfectant do little to calm the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You can't shake the feeling of embarrassment that has been lingering since you realized your phone, and with it, your audiobook, were left behind in Zayne's car.
As you sit there, your mind wanders back to the heated scene you'd been listening to, the male lead's dominant actions and the female protagonist's responses echoing in your thoughts. You had been so engrossed, so lost in the intimate moment, that you can't help but cringe at the idea of Zayne potentially overhearing even a snippet of it. The thought of him knowing what you had been craving, the desires that had been stirring within you, makes your cheeks flush a deep shade of red.
You try to push the thoughts away, taking a deep breath to compose yourself as you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. The door to Zayne's office swings open, revealing his tall, broad shouldered frame. He's changed out of the dress shirt and tie he had on earlier, now wearing a crisp white lab coat that accentuates his professional demeanor. His hazel eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you swear you see a flicker of something in their depths but it's gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cool, collected gaze of your doctor.
You rise from the chair, your legs feeling a bit unsteady as you walk towards Zayne's office. As you brush past him, you feel the heat of his body, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air between you. It's enough to make your heart race and your cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red.
The room feels both intimidating and comforting, a testament to his brilliance and dedication to his craft. You perch yourself on the edge of the exam table, smoothing your skirt over your thighs as you try to calm the nervous energy coursing through you.
Zayne closes the door behind him, the click of the latch sounds like a gunshot in the otherwise silent room. You watch as he approaches, his movements efficient and focused as always. A glimmer of hope sparks within you at the realization that perhaps he hadn't overheard the explicit scene from your audiobook after all. Some phones are known to stop playing media once disconnected from headphones, aren't they? Maybe, just maybe, yours was one of those right?
"Alright, let's begin love, we only have 15 minutes" Zayne says, his voice low and smooth as he reaches for his stethoscope. He listens intently to your heartbeat The cool metal of the stethoscope sends a shiver through you, making you all too aware of the intimate proximity of his body to yours.
Zayne's brow furrows as he listens to your heartbeat, his eyes flicking up to meet yours with a questioning gaze. He removes the stethoscope from your chest, letting it rest around his neck as he reaches for your wrist, his long fingers finding your pulse point with practiced ease.
"Your heart rate is elevated," he notes. His thumb brushes over your skin, the sensation sending a small jlt of electricity through you. "Did you run here?
You shake your head as he places the stethoscope against your chest once more, urging you to take a deep breath. As you inhale, your lungs expand, your ribcage rising gently. But as you exhale, you feel your breath catch, the air leaving your lungs in a shaky, uneven stream.
Zayne's brow furrows again, a flicker of concern crossing his face. He listens intently to your breathing, his head tilted slightly as he focuses on the sound. After a long moment, he straightens up, allowing the stethoscope to rest around his neck once more.
"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice filled with a gentler concern. "Your breathing is a bit erratic. And your cheeks are flushed..." He trails off, his gaze drifting over your face, taking in the deep red hue that still paints your skin.
Before you can answer you feel Zayne's body heat radiating against you as he leans in closer, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangle in your hair. Your heart races, your breath catching in your throat as you think, for a moment, that he might close the distance between you and press his lips to yours.
"Were you in the emergency room two days ago?"
His words reach your ears, and the spell is broken. Your eyes widen in surprise as you realize that he's not about to kiss you at all. Instead, he's demanding an explanation for something far more serious.
"W-what?" you stammer out, your voice coming out sounding more breathless than intended. "I don't know what you're talking about, Zayne."
Zayne's eyes narrow, his grip on the back of your head tightening slightly. "Don't play dumb with me, Y/N" his voice low and dangerous. "I just got off the phone with Dr. Greyson. He told me that you were in the emergency room two days ago after a run in with a pair of wanderers. Is that true?"
You roll your eyes, trying to brush off Zayne's concern with a dismissive gesture. "It was nothing serious, Zayne," you insist, your voice taking on a slightly defensive tone. "I just... I passed out, that's all. It happens sometimes after a tough hunt."
You can see the frustration flashing in his eyes, his jaw clenching slightly as he takes in your words. He's not convinced, and you can tell that your attitude has only served to anger him further.
"Nothing serious?" he repeats, his voice rising slightly. "You could have been killed. Those creatures are dangerous, and you know the risks better than anyone."
You swallow hard, feeling a flicker of guilt for not telling him sooner. But you also feel a spark of defiance, a stubbornness that rears its head in the face of his disapproval.
"I had it under control," you argue, your chin jutting out slightly as you meet his intense gaze. "I've been training for this, Zayne. I know what I'm doing." Even as you say the words, you can't help but think of the way your heart had raced, the way your vision had started to tunnel before everything went black. Had you really had it under control? Or had you been in over your head, just as Zayne seemed to think?
You blink, wondering if you imagined the hint of a smirk on his lips. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a stern, disapproving frown. You can't be sure if it was a reaction to your defiant words or if it was a fleeting moment of amusement at your stubbornness.
With a sigh, Zayne releases his grip on the back of your head and steps away. He moves to sit behind his desk, the sleek chair creaking softly as it accepts his weight.
"Come sit down, Y/N," he says, his voice still tinged with that underlying frustration.
You feel a flicker of unease as you make your way over to the chair. Settling into the seat in front of him, you smooth your skirt over your thighs, suddenly feeling self conscious under Zayne's scrutiny.
"I said, come sit down but I never said where, did I?"
"Oh," you breathe out, suddenly feeling flustered. Your gaze darts down to his thighs, where his fingers tap impatiently against the fabric of his dress pants. The gesture is both commanding and intimate.
You stand up from the chair, your heart pounding in your chest as you take a tentative step towards him. But before you can sit down on his lap, as he so blatantly implied, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a familiar object. Your eyes widen in surprise and a flicker of panic as you recognize it as your phone.
"Were you looking for this?" Zayne asks, a hint of amusement in his voice. A wave of embarrassment crashes over you, your cheeks burning hotter than before. You can only imagine the thoughts running through Zayne's mind, the conclusions he must be drawing about your... tastes. The realization that he now knows about your secret desire for dominant men hits you like a punch to the gut.
Zayne, I..." you begin, your voice trailing off as you try to formulate a coherent response. But what can you say? How can you possibly explain the fact that you've been craving the very thing he's always held himself back from giving you?
"Your taste in literature is quite interesting love" The way he says "love" sends a shiver down your spine, the single syllable dripping with a raw intensity that makes your knees feel weak.
Zayne leans back in his chair, the leather creaking softly beneath his shifting weight. A smirk plays at the corners of his mouth, he's enjoying this, enjoying the way your embarrassment and flustered state have given him the upper hand.
Zayne glances at his watch, his brow furrowing slightly as he takes in the time. "Will you look at that," he murmurs "We only have five minutes left, so I suppose there won't be a chance for you to sit... anymore." His gaze rakes over your body, his eyes lingering on your curves in a way that makes your heart race.
You reach out for your phone, your fingers brushing against Zayne's as you attempt to take it from his hand. But at the last moment, you hesitate, pulling your hand back as if burned. The sudden movement causes the phone to slip from Zayne's grasp, tumbling down to land softly on the plush carpet at your feet.
Without a word, you sink down to your knees, the soft fibers of the carpet cushioning your legs. You lean forward, your hair falling over your shoulder as you reach for your phone. As your hand closes around the device, you pause, your gaze drifting up to meet Zayne's.
He's watching you intently, his eyes dark and unreadable. You can't help but smirk up at him, your lips curving into a playful grin, phone clutched in your hand.
His eyes widen in surprise as your hand suddenly drops the phone again and reaches for his belt. Before he can react or push your hands away, the ring of his office phone pierces the air, startling you both.
Seizing the brief distraction, you waste no time in your actions. Your fingers unbuckle his belt, the leather strap slipping free with a soft clink. Zayne's breath hitches, his body stiffening slightly as your hands move lower, grasping his zipper. With a slow tug, you lower his zipper, the metal teeth parting company with a soft hiss.
Zayne's eyes, which had been flicking towards the ringing phone, snap back to you as he realizes your intentions. His gaze is intense, blazing with a mix of shock, desire, and restrained hunger. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but the words die on his lips as you reach inside his boxers and wrap your hand around his hardening length.
His cock is hot and heavy in your palm, already stiffening and swelling from your touch. You can feel the weight of it, the thick vein running along the underside, the velvety soft skin that sheathes the rock hard flesh beneath. A thrill of power surges through you as you realize the effect you have on him, the way his body responds to your touch despite his attempts to maintain control.
Zayne's jaw clenches, his eyes never leaving yours as he struggles to regain his composure. The phone continues to ring, its shrill cry growing more insistent, demanding his attention. But in this moment, his gaze is solely focused on you, his body trembling slightly as you stroke his now fully erect cock.
You freeze as a knock sounds on the door, the sharp rap of knuckles against wood jolting you like a shock of electricity. Acting on pure instinct, you quickly duck down, hiding yourself beneath Zayne's desk just as the door begins to open. The plush carpet brushes against your skin as you crouch there, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.
You barely have a moment to catch your breath before Zayne is pushing his chair forward, the wheels rolling smoothly across the carpet. The sudden movement catches you off guard, and before you can react, his chair is pressed flush against the desk, leaving you with no room, to hide his now fully exposed and throbbing erection.
You can hear the creak of the door hinges as it swings open, the sound of footsteps entering the room. Zayne clears his throat, his voice slightly hoarse as he greets his visitor.
"Yes, Yvonne, what is it?"
You can hear the faint rustle of fabric as Yvonne moves closer to the desk. "Dr. Zayne, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to let you know that your next patient, Mrs. Hartley, called to cancel her appointment for this afternoon. And I've just checked the schedule, you don't have any more appointments booked for today."
As Yvonne speaks, you find yourself face to face with Zayne's throbbing erection, the swollen head mere inches from your lips. The musky, masculine scent of his arousal fills your nostrils, making your head spin with desire. Unable to resist the temptation, you lean forward slightly, your parted lips brushing against the sensitive flesh.
Zayne inhales sharply through his teeth, his body tensing above you as your mouth envelops the head of his cock. His hand grips the armrest of his chair, knuckles turning white as he fights to maintain his composure.
"Is that all, Yvonne?" Zayne asks, his voice strained as he tries to keep it level. The effort it takes for him to maintain his professional demeanor is clear in the tightness of his jaw, the slight waver in his tone.
You can only imagine the show of willpower it must take for him to keep himself from reacting, from giving away the secret that you're hidden beneath his desk, your lips wrapped around his cock. The risk of getting caught only adds to the thrill, the forbidden nature of your actions sending a fresh surge of heat rushing through your veins.
"Well I have your schedule for tomorrow, do you want to go over it or should I just email it to you?"
"Just... just email it to me" he manages to grit out, his voice tighter than before. The sensation of your tongue dragging along the sensitive underside of his cock is making it increasingly difficult for him to think straight, let alone carry on a coherent conversation.
Yvonne hesitates for a moment. "Alright, I'll send it over shortly then. Is there anything else you need before I go, Dr. Zayne?"
As Zayne opens his mouth to respond, you take the opportunity to wrap your lips around his cock and take him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the thick head. A shudder runs through Zayne's body, his fingers tightening their grip on the armrest as he bites back a groan that threatens to spill from his lips.
"N-no, that's all for now," Zayne manages to say, his words coming out slightly clipped and strained. "I'll... I'll look it over when I get your email."
You feel Zayne's hand move to your hair, his fingers gripping the strands tightly the slight pain of his grip only adding to the pleasure of having him in your mouth.
Yvonne's footsteps pause, and you hear her ask, "Did Y/N leave already? I didn't see her leave earlier."
For a moment, there's a beat of heavy silence, the only sound being the pounding of your own heart in your ears. Then, Zayne's voice cuts through the air, strained and tight.
"She's... she's currently in the bathroom," he manages to say, his words coming out in a slightly husky murmur. The lie rolls off his tongue, but you can feel the effort it takes for him to maintain control.
Yvonne hesitates for a moment, and you can almost picture her brow furrowing in slight confusion. "Oh, I see," she says, not sounding entirely convinced. "Well, I'll just... I'll be heading out then. Have a good rest of your evening, Dr. Zayne."
As Yvonne turns to leave, you hear her call out, her voice louder than necessary, " Tell her I said goodbye, would you? I'll see you tomorrow."
The moment Yvonne is gone, Zayne's grip on your hair tightens, his hips rocking forward slightly as he pushes himself deeper into your mouth. His deep, powerful thrusts send waves of pleasure radiating through his body, but also push you to your limits. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his thick length, your throat constricting around him.
A particularly forceful thrust causes you to gag, a spurt of saliva escapes the seal of your lips, dripping down the side. The sound of your choking and the feeling of your convulsing throat around him almost send Zayne over the edge.
With a sharp intake of breath, he pulls you off his throbbing cock. You gasp for air as your mouth is freed, tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving with ragged breaths.
Without a word, he uses his grip on your hair to gently pull you up and onto his desk, the smooth wood cool against your skin. You sit there for a moment, catching your breath and wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.
Before you can regain your bearings, Zayne leans down and grabs your ankles, his strong fingers curling around the delicate bones. With a swift movement, he places your feet on the edge of his desk, the heels of your boots digging into the polished wood. The action causes your legs to spread, your skirt riding up to reveal your panties.
Zayne leans in, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. "Tell me, love," he whispers, "Do you think Yvonne is stupid? Huh? Why do you have to be such a fucking brat?" The word 'brat' comes out as a growl, a sound that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. At the same time, his hand finds its way back to the hair at the nape of your neck, gripping the strands tightly and using them to angle your head, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.
Before you can formulate and answer, Zayne sits back down in his chair, releasing your hair only to use both of his strong hands to push your legs even wider apart. The movement is forceful, almost rough, the desk creaking slightly beneath the sudden shift.
Not wanting to waste any more time , he hooks his fingers into the delicate fabric of your panties and tugs them roughly to the side. The cool air of the office kisses your newly exposed flesh, making you shiver. But you barely have a moment to register the sensation before his mouth is on you, his tongue delving between your folds with a hunger that takes your breath away.
"Ah!" you gasp, your back arching at the sudden, intense pleasure. He doesn't hesitate, he licks and sucks at your most sensitive places with a single minded focus, his tongue circling your clit and dipping inside your cunt.
His knowledge of your body is intimate and extensive, allowing him to play you like an instrument. His tongue dances over your most sensitive spots with practiced ease, the slick muscle circling and flickering against your clit. He can feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his invading tongue as he drives you towards ecstasy.
And just as your climax begins to crash over you, your vision blurring at the edges and your toes curling in your boots, Zayne suddenly pulls away. Your hips buck up off the desk, seeking more of that delicious friction, but Zayne holds your thighs firmly in place, denying you the release your body cries out for.
"No," you whimper, frustration and desperation coloring your voice. "Please, Zayne, I... I need..." But the words die on your lips when you feel his palm crack against your sensitive flesh. You gasp, your hips jerking up off the desk at the sudden contact, your eyes flying wide open in surprise.
Didn't you hear what Yvonne said?" His grip on your thighs tightens, his fingers digging into your soft skin with a possessive force. "We have all night, love. And brats like you don't get to cum fast... and certainly not when they want to."
With a deliberate, almost teasing slowness, he unzips your boots and slips them off your feet, letting them drop to the floor with a soft thud.
"Lift your hips for me, Y/N," Zayne commands. "I need to remove your skirt and panties. Now." His gaze is intense, his eyes burning into yours with an unspoken demand for obedience.
You quickly obey, lifting your hips off the desk as instructed. Zayne makes short work of your skirt and soaked panties, roughly tugging them down your legs and off, leaving you bare and exposed.
As you start to reach for the hem of your shirt, intending to remove it as well, Zayne's hand shoots out and grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. His grip is firm, his fingers wrapping around your wrist like a manacle.
"Ah ah ah, not so fast," his voice a warning growl. "If you don't listen, I'm going to have no choice but to tie those hands of yours. And trust me, you won't like the consequences of testing my patience any further."
Without warning, he leans in and starts trailing hot, open mouthed kisses along your sensitive inner thigh, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh. You feel the sharp sting of his bite, followed by the soothing caress of his tongue, leaving a trail of marks in his wake.
He works his way up, alternating between sucking and biting, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. Just as you think he might finally give you what you want, he pauses, his breath hot against your core.
Then, with deliberate teasing, he spreads your pussy lips using his thumb and middle finger to expose your throbbing clit and extends the tip of his tongue to graze it, the faintest whisper of a touch.
Your hips jerk, a strangled moan escaping your lips at the teasing caress. But before you can gain any real pleasure from it, he pulls back, leaving you wanting and desperate once more. He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he takes in your needy expression.
He continues his maddening tease, the tip of his tongue flicking against your clit in feather light strokes. He can feel your body tensing, your thighs trembling on either side of his head as he pushes you to the brink time and time again. Each time you feel your climax building, your walls starting to flutter and clench around his tongue, he pulls back, denying you the final push you need to tumble over the edge.
As much as you try to keep your impending orgasm a secret, Zayne knows your body intimately. He can feel the subtle changes, the way your muscles tighten and your breathing hitches. And so, just as each climax is about to crash over you, Zayne pulls away once more, leaving you on the edge.
"No!" you cry out, frustration and desperation coloring your voice. "Please, I... I can't..." But your pleas fall on deaf ears as Zayne refuses to relent.
Finally his hands reach for the hem of your shirt. With rough tug, he pulls it up and off, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra quickly follows, the clasp unhooking easily under his fingers. The lacy garment falls away, baring your breasts to his hungry eyes.
He takes a moment to admire the sight of you, laid out naked and wanting before him. His eyes darken with lust as they roam over your curves, taking in every dip and swell. Leaning down, he places open mouthed kisses along the soft underside of your breast, his tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh until he reaches the hardened peak of your nipple.
"Zayne, please," you whimper, arching your back to press your breast more fully against his lips. Your plea is cut off by a sharp gasp as his teeth close around the sensitive bud, his tongue flicking against it teasingly. Your fingers tangle in his hair, gripping the short strands tightly.
He pauses, his breath hot against your breast as he looks up at you with a stern, expectant gaze. "Next time you find yourself in the hospital, are you going to let me know right away? are you going to be a good girl and call me first thing, before anyone else?"
His tongue flattens against your nipple, the slick muscle dragging over the sensitive peak as he laves attention on the hardened nub. At the same time, he thrusts two long, strong fingers deep inside you, your walls instantly clenching around them.
He pumps his fingers slowly, his thumb circling your clit in teasing strokes as he suckles at your breast.
"I'll be good," you gasp out "I promise, I'll call you first thing if anything happens." You can feel your climax building, your walls fluttering wildly around his fingers. Tears of frustration and overwhelming pleasure sting at the corners of your eyes.
"Please, Zayne," you whimper, your voice breaking on his name. "Please let me cum this time. I'll be so good, I swear it. I just... I need it so badly. Please, I'm begging you..."
"Not good enough," Zayne whispers as he pulls his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty and aching. Tears stream down your face as he denies you the release you so desperately crave.
"Zayne, please," you sob, your voice choked with emotion. "I need... I can't... Please don't do this. I'll do anything, just please let me cum. I'm begging you." Your hips buck up off the desk, seeking any friction, any pressure to alleviate the throbbing ache between your thighs.
In a blink, Zayne flips you over onto your stomach, your bare breasts pressing against the cool surface of his desk. Before you can catch your breath or process the sudden change in position, he's gripping your hips and pulling them back, forcing your ass up to meet the heavy weight of his erection.
You feel the thick, hard length of him sliding between your cheeks, the tip smearing trails of precum all the way down to your dripping entrance. Your hips twitch and buck reflexively, your body craving the feel of him inside you, filling you up in the way only he can.
You reach back to grab Zayne's hip, your fingers digging into his flesh as you try to pull him closer, desperate to feel him inside you. But before you can, he grabs both of your wrists, pinning your arms above your head and holding them down against the desk.
"If you keep being a bad girl, Y/N, how am I supposed to fuck you properly? Hmm?"
He punctuates his words with a sharp smack to your ass, the stinging pain blossoming into a warm, tingling pleasure that makes you clench around nothing. The head of his cock catches on your entrance, teasing you with the promise of what's to come.
Zayne releases your wrists only to grab them again, this time bringing them behind your back. Before you can react, you feel the cold metal of his stethoscope as he wraps the tubing around your wrists to bind your hands together, leaving you helpless and at his mercy.
"There, that should keep you from being too troublesome" His hands smooth over the curve of your ass, gripping the flesh hard enough to leave fingerprint shaped bruises in their wake.
"Now, let's see if we can find a way to make you behave," Zayne growls, his hips surging forward to bury himself to the hilt inside your tight, wet heat in one powerful thrust.
You scream in a mix of surprise and overwhelming pleasure as Zayne sheaths himself fully inside you with one hard, deep thrust. Your back arches, your tied hands fisting behind your back as you try to adjust to the sudden, intense intrusion.
Zayne lets out a groan, his voice echoing off the office walls as he hilts himself deep inside your clenching, grasping heat. "Fuck," he grunts, his hips pressing flush against your ass as he savors the feeling of your walls gripping his cock. "You feel fucking incredible."
He doesn't give you a moment to adjust to the feeling of his thick cock buried deep inside you. Instead, he grips the tubing binding your wrists and starts to move, using it as a handle to pull you back to meet his powerful thrusts. His hips smack against your ass, the stinging pain blending deliciously with the intense pleasure radiating out from where you're joined. The movement and force of Zayne's thrusts causes the items on his desk to clutter loudly, some falling to the floor with a crash, papers scatter and pens roll off the edge.
Don't worry, love," Zayne grits out through clenched teeth, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his release. "This time, I'm not going to stop, but if...fuuuuck...if you keep clenching around me like that, I won't last long"
"Zayne, I'm gonna... I'm about to..." you stutter out, your words dissolving into a high pitched keen of pleasure as you feel your climax fast approaching. Just as you're on the brink, ready to tumble over into pure ecstasy, Zayne does the unexpected.
While one hand stays gripping your bound wrists, the other snakes around to your aching, swollen clit. But instead of the gentle rubbing or flicking you crave, Zayne pinches the sensitive nub hard between his thumb and index finger, sending a shockwave of intense sensation coursing through your body.
Zayne whispers harshly in your ear, "If you ever roll your eyes at me again like you did today, twice, your punishment will be far, far worse than a few spanks. The only time your pretty eyes should be rolling is when I'm fucking you just thrust like thrust this thurst, until you can't see straight."
To emphasize his point, he gives you a particularly brutal thrust, grinding his pelvis against your ass and forcing you to take every last inch of his cock. "Is that clear, Y/N?"
He lets go of your clit, the sudden rush of blood back to the sensitive nub sending jolts of intensified pleasure shooting through you. As your body trembles he angles his hips just right, and on his next thrust he lightly runs a finger along the side of your now swollen clit.
Your scream of ecstasy echoes off the office walls as you come, your vision going white with the force of your orgasm. "Yes, Zayne!" you cry out, your voice breaking on his name as your walls spasm and clench wildly around his cock.
As your body convulses and shakes through the most intense orgasm of your life, you hear Zayne let out a string of curses. "Fuck! Shit, Damnit! I can't...I'm cumming!"
His grip on your hips tightens to a bruising level as he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt inside your still fluttering walls. His cock pulses and throbs as he starts to unload, flooding your insides with his hot, thick seed.
You can feel each twitch and spurt of his release, his body shudders above you, his breath coming in harsh, ragged pants as he rides out the waves of his own climax.
"Good girl," he whispers "you took my cock so well" He gently removes the stethoscope from your wrists, rubbing the reddened skin to ease the discomfort as he helps you up, his strong arms supporting your trembling body.
"Come on," he says softly, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Let's go clean you up and then we can head home. We have to stop by the store to get a new stethoscope, and then we have to figure out a way for me to hide my embarrassment every time I have to talk to Yvonne"
You can't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all, your cheeks flushed and eyes bright with lingering pleasure.
He smirks at the memory, chuckling lowly as he helps you gather your scattered clothes.
Note: I don't know if a stethoscope is strong enough to handle that but you get the idea 😉
Rafayel is next!!!
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#lads smut#lads x reader#lnds x reader#lads x you#lnds x you#love and deepspace reader#love and deepspace zayne#zayne x reader#zayne smut#zayne#lnds zayne#l&ds zayne#zayne love and deepspace#lads zayne#zayne lads#zayne l&ds#zayne lnds#brat tamer zayne
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