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readwritealldayallnight · 4 months ago

Text

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 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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chanelrolls · 1 month ago

Text

kneel, caleb.

synopsis. your subordinate, caleb, has always been the ideal employee. but appearances deceive, don't they? there's no way your perfect junior is a massive perv... spoiler alert: he is.

content. afab!fem reader, office au, caleb pov, creepy & obsessive behavior, gaslighting, unsactioned spying, perverse actions, workplace malpractice, masturbation, p in v, oral (f!receiving), mouthspitting, desk sex, caleb is just an overall gross stalker, could be dubcon.

READ AT UR OWN RISK !

a/n. hi! just wanna give a heads-up that caleb might be a liiiittle ooc here since i wanted to try a powerplay dynamic between him and you, with caleb formerly being the bottom. basically, a pathetic yearning submissive!caleb :3 (but he'll dom in the end)

wc. 4k

The hum of the office printers and the soft taps of the keyboards were the routine background music to Caleb's workday. It was a monotonous cadence that had long since stopped to register in his head.

Today, though, those sounds felt like a mocking grate.

He sat at his desk, trying to silence the pounding of his heartbeat. His crisp khaki shirt clung to his broad shoulders down to his back from a sheen of sweat. Then, his fingers, usually so precise, trembled over the keyboard.

He had meant to print the latest client proposal for his superior, you, to review. Such a simple request, and yet, he had fucked up. In a catastrophic lapse of his usual meticulousness, a single, misplaced keystroke had sent his most lewd and explicit writings to the communal printer. Pages upon pages of detailed smut that featured him splitting you wide open on his cock. The printer that everyone, including his manager, used. Sheet by damning sheet were now spilling out for the entire world to see.

Fuck. How could I mix up the damn files? Why didn’t I double-check?

He berated himself internally for the slip up. Propelled into action by sheer panic, Caleb shot up from his chair. His typically measured stride broke into an uncharacteristic sprint, each urgent step towards the printer room amplifying the dread that clutched at his throat.

Throughout, his mind was ablaze with the potential fallout; the scandal would be career-ending, soul-crushing. His perfect professional image, the one he had so carefully constructed, was on the brink of shattering.

All because of a fucking misclick.

As he neared the doorway, time seemed to contort, stretching the seconds into lifetimes. His only hope was to snatch away the filth before any eyes, especially those of his superior, could take it in.

But as fate would have it, the universe conspired against him. Just as he was about to lunge for the papers, a silhouette appeared in the doorway.

You.

Oh, fuck me.

With no time to think and everything to lose, Caleb settled for a risky plan. His stride slowed, attempting nonchalance. "Ah, Y/n, just the person I was hoping to catch," he blurted out, his voice a strained mimicry of casualness.

"There's been a slight hiccup with the proposal I was printing for you. It seems the printer has pulled the wrong file from the queue." The lie was a gamble, a last-ditch effort to deflect from the horror of the situation. "I'll sort this out and bring the correct one to your office shortly. My apologies for the inconvenience."

His plea to the deities was silent, desperate: Take the bait. Please, for the love of God, take the fucking bait, don’t question it, and walk away.

There was just no plausible explanation for why he had multiple pages describing you as his pathetic cock sleeve, stupid cum rag, bitch in heat, and other similar obscene names.

Caleb refrained from allowing his eyes to dart towards the incriminating evidence hanging from the printer tray like a sordid tapestry, not wanting to draw further attention to it. Standing rigidly, every fibre of his being willed you to accept his words, to leave the room without a second glance. His future, his reputation, his very sanity hung in the balance, suspended by the slender thread of a hastily conjured lie.

You paused at the doorway, brow furrowing slightly as you take in Caleb's flustered state. His shirt was a bit rumpled, hair slightly disheveled, and his eyes had an oddly unusual stern look. It was a far cry from his usual put-together demeanor. You couldn't help but notice the way his gaze darted nervously to the printer and back to you.

Something's not right here.

"A hiccup?" you asked, arching an eyebrow. "I don't have time for printer malfunctions, Caleb. I need that proposal on my desk within the hour." Your voice came firm, a subtle undercurrent of warning beneath the professional tone.

Caleb swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your gaze like a physical pressure on his chest. Fuck, she's not buying it, he panicked internally.

"Of course, I apologize for the delay. I assure you, it will be resolved shortly," he replied, his voice strained. He was wracking his brain for a way to salvage this situation. He couldn't let you see the depravity spilling from the printer, the explicit details of his obsession with you splayed out for all to see.

Desperate, he took a step closer to you, his hand outstretched in a placating gesture. "Perhaps we could discuss the changes you wanted to the proposal in your office? I have a few...notes I jotted down earlier that I think you'll find useful," he said, his tone a careful balance of deference and subtle manipulation.

If I can just get her out of here, away from the printer and those fucking papers, I can contain this disaster.

You hesitated for a moment, eyes narrowing as you studied Caleb's face. You couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding something, that there was an undercurrent of desperation in his manner. But the mention of the changes you had requested gave you a pause. You did need the proposal, and if Caleb had the notes, then perhaps it was better to hear him out in the privacy of your office.

"Very well," you said finally, turning on your heel. "But make it quick, please. I have a meeting in thirty minutes that I can't miss."

As you walked out, Caleb felt a wave of relief wash over him. That was too fucking close. He turned to the printer, his hands shaking as he gathered up the incriminating pages, stuffing them into his briefcase. I can't let her see this, I can't let anyone see this, he repeated like a mantra.

You settle into the plush leather chair behind your desk. You watched as Caleb hurried in after you, his movements hurried and frazzled. He was acting even stranger than before, eyes darting around your office nervously.

He's up to something. But what?

"Alright, Caleb, let's see these notes you mentioned," you hold out your hand expectantly. You leaned forward, elbows on your desk, and fixed him with a penetrating stare.

Caleb swallowed hard. His mouth suddenly felt dry. Think, you fucking idiot, think. He berated himself. He couldn't show you the real notes, not with the depraved shit he'd written about you splashed all over them.

"Ah, yes, of course," he stammered, fumbling with his briefcase. In truth, he was buying time, trying to come up with a plausible lie.

I can't let her see those pages, I can't let her know how I've been fantasizing about her, he thought desperately. But I need to give her something to keep her off my trail.

In a moment of inspiration, he pulled out a sheet of paper, scrawling a few generic notes about the proposal. It was thin, but it would have to do.

"Here," he hands you the sheet. "I thought we could lead with the data analysis section, highlight the key insights that drive the strategy. And perhaps emphasize the cost-saving initiatives on the next page to frame the financial benefits..." He droned on, his voice taking on a professional cadence. But inside, his mind was becoming a whirlwind of panic and lust.

Even during such a moment, Caleb couldn't help himself but to trail his eyes down the perfect curve of your neckline, and then to the flawless skin of your cleavage that had let itself expose through a few undone buttons. I just want to bend her over this desk and fuck her until she screams. Show her who the real boss is. His gaze continued to rove over your form, before swallowing. He couldn't act on those urges, not now. Not ever. He had to keep up this charade, had to maintain the illusion of the perfect, dedicated employee.

Play it cool, Caleb, he told himself. Don't let her see how crazy you are about her.

You listened to his suggestions, expression inscrutable. You, again, felt like he was holding something back, that there was a hidden agenda behind his words. But the notes, flimsy as they were, could work.

You lean back in your chair. "Those are...adequate," you set the single sheet of notes down on the desk. "But I seem to recall you mentioning you had more than just this. Hand them over please." your tone left no room for argument, and you fixed him with a stare that dared him to disobey.

Caleb felt his stomach drop as you demanded the rest of the notes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She's not letting this go.

He knew he should refuse and make up an excuse, anything to keep you from seeing the depraved writings that filled the rest of the pages. But the words stuck in his throat, and he found himself reaching into his briefcase once more, fingers brushing against the paper.

Maybe if I just give her a little taste, she'll be satisfied and wouldn't question further. Maybe she won't look too closely.

With a shaking hand, he passed some of the papers to you, his heart hammering against his ribs while you took it from him. He watched you flip open the cover and began to read.

At first, your expression remained impassive, eyes merely scanning the lines of neat lines of words. But as you turned another page, he saw a flicker of confusion cross your face.

You blushed.

Oh god.

Cute.

But, wait, fuck, she's seeing it, he thought, a wave of nausea rising in his throat. She's seeing all the filthy things I've written about her!

"Caleb...what're these?"

No.

Kill me.

"Did you write these...?" You breathed, holding up the paper with trembling fingers.

No, I didn't. Well, yes, I did. But, no.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was frozen, paralyzed by the sheer, gut-wrenching terror of being exposed. He had crossed a line, and he knew there was no going back. His career, his reputation, everything he had worked so hard to build, was about to come crashing down around him.

I'm fucked, he thought, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. I'm so fucked.

Just as the tension between you reached a fever pitch, the office door suddenly swung open, and a co-worker pokes her head in. "Excuse me! I have that report you asked for," She announced, oblivious to the charged atmosphere. She breezed in, setting a folder on your desk. "Sorry for the interruption, but this is really urgent."

You blinked, startled by the interference. Then, you glanced at your watch, cursing under your breath when you realized the time.

"I have to go," you stood up from your desk, not sparing Caleb a glance. The papers were already slipped into one of the compartments of your worktable.

Caleb stood frozen as the two women exited the office, leaving him alone with his racing thoughts.

Later that night, as you sat in your dimly lit condo, unwinding from the stressful day, Caleb was hunched over his laptop in his own apartment. His fingers trembled as he clicked through the surveillance feed, and watched you.

He had installed a small camera inside the teddy bear he had gifted you months ago, a "joke" present that you had accepted with a polite smile and a strained laugh. At the time, he had told himself it was just a harmless prank, a way to make you smile. But deep down, he had known the truth - it was a way to invade your privacy, to make you his in a way that you could never know.

Now, as he watched you move around the room, the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows across your face, he felt a thrill of excitement and fear. You were so close, so real, and yet so utterly unaware of his presence.

He zoomed in, the image blurring slightly once he focused on your face, on the way your lips moved as you read a book, oblivious to his gaze.

Mine.

Caleb shuts his eyes for a second.

You aren't here for that, Caleb.

He still couldn't forget the look on his manager's face upon stumbling over the depraved fantasies he had long since kept hidden. He swore he saw a blush forming across your cheeks when you did. Did she like it? Could there have been a chance?

No, weirdo.

He had been told by you to talk in your office by tomorrow morning, and he didn't need any further explanation. Because he knows he's about to get reprimanded for what he had done. But watching you through the camera, fingers resting against the philtrum of his mouth, a flicker of hope sparked in his chest.

You wouldn't dare fire him. You needed him.

As Caleb watched, transfixed by the scene unfolding on his laptop screen, you suddenly paused in your reading. Caleb curiously leans back. You reached into the leather bag on your nightstand, your fingers rummaging around before emerging with a familiar-looking set of pages.

Oh.

Caleb's heart leapt into his throat as he recognized the documents, it was the very same set of perverse writings he had given you earlier that day, the ones you had left in your desk before being called away to the meeting. Somehow, you had taken them home with you, and now you were reading them in the privacy of your own bedroom.

Caleb studies your reactions. She must think I'm a sick, twisted freak.

You sat down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs and biting your nails while you scanned the lines of his obsession. The expression on your face was hard to decipher, but it didn't show any hint of revulsion nor disgust. If anything, you looked quite... interested. And it made Caleb squint his eyes into a pair of half-lidded ones. Or could she be enjoying what I wrote for her?

He knew he shouldn't do this, especially when his career is already on the line. But he found it hard to resist when you're there.

You're there, sitting cross-legged on the bed while being confronted by the true depths of his desire. Showing the skin of your legs by wearing a pair of short shorts, showing that supple fucking skin he had been longing to touch.

Caleb reached down.

Your hair is so perfect, it falls on all the right places. Your neckline, one of his favorites, seemed to tease him a little more right now than usual. Not in a dramatic, romantic way, no. In a suffocating, painful way, as if his ribs constricted each time you tucked a strand behind your ear. Your lashes, long and curled like they belonged in oil paintings, cast shadows over your cheeks that Caleb studied too often. He knew the exact angle at which the light struck your skin to make it glow. He’d memorized it, hoarded it.

Caleb's breathing grew ragged palming himself through the rough fabric of his pants.

You weren't just beautiful. You were specific. A kind of cruel perfection stitched together from his glances, the curve of your shoulder in a nightgown, the slight press of your lips as you read. Hell, your voice, too. Your voice wasn’t just soft, it was a sound that haunted him long after meetings. It echoed inside him with maddening clarity.

She's mine. Caleb unbuckled his belt, adam's apple bobbing down out of guilt. Guilt and excitement. She doesn't know it yet, but she's mine.

With a strangled groan, he kept his eyes on you, stroking himself faster, stroking himself with urgent movements.

"Fuck," He sighs, rolling his head back. One hand squeezing the base of his cock, the other folded above his forehead. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, just like that..." It was so wrong. He knew he was gross for acting like this, but the indecency of it all only seemed to heighten his arousal.

Leaning forward, Caleb opens the first compartment of his table, grabbing something from the inside. He quickly pushes it back close, holding up the item in his hand before bringing it to his nose. Your red, laced panty.

Smells so fucking divine.

He takes his time sniffing it, eyes shut. How and where'd he get it? That's a different story. Right now, the focus lies on how Caleb brings the piece of fabric in the other hand he used for stroking, wrapping it around his shaft. And then, he jerks himself off with your panty.

Caleb moaned.

"Fuck me." He stares at you on his laptop screen through half-lidded, lust-filled eyes. You had already stopped reading, standing up to do your self-care routine that Caleb had gone used to by watching it every single night.

First, serum. And then, moisturizer. Then, face gel.

You dropped the tube on the floor, and you had to crouch down and bend over to reach for it when it rolled down your bed.

Caleb tensed. Shit.

He picked up the pace, grunting and moaning, a sheen of sweat forming in the pits of his clavicle, rolling down to wet the neckline of his shirt. "I'm gunna cum, baby—" And he did. He came hard, his body shuddering as he watched the juices spill out from the tip, shooting out to the laptop screen, to the keyboard, everywhere.

He lets his head finally fall back in a dramatic swing, chasing his breath.

Even as he masturbated to your panty every night, to you through the camera, he would never be able to satisfy himself entirely unless it's your pussy squeezing his dick.

Caleb sighed. Now that you've found out about the smut that he'd been compiling, he wonders how long would it take before you find out the categorized files in his USB drive, filled with pictures he'd taken and stolen of you without consent. How long would it take before you see the altar of your printed photographs across his wall, scribbled by a red marker of hearts. And to the lockbag of your hairstrands he'd find when he cleans your office.

There's no way you'd suspect him further. After all, Caleb had always been the model employee. Everybody in the corporate looked up to him, admired him.

There's no way he was actually a massive pervert who stalked you and obsessed with you to death.

Caleb felt like a man walking to his own execution as he crossed the threshold to your office. He adjusted his tie, then smoothed his shirt. His hands were sweating, so he wiped them down on his slacks before stepping in furthermore. And every step felt like a countdown to combustion.

There you were, a figure sculpted by dominance and grace. You didn't look up right away, just gestured toward the seat across your desk, as you slowly closed a folder in a deliberate manner.

Caleb sat frozen.

He could barely feel the chair under him, only the thundering echo of his heart in his ears. Somehow, the room felt too warm. No, maybe, it was you. The way you moved around the desk, unhurried, and impossibly close now.

He kept his eyes down.

Don’t look at her. Don’t make it worse. Don’t ruin this.

But his body betrayed him, as always. Every sense strained toward your presence- the soft scuff of your heels, the faintest trace of your perfume- it pulled at something in him that he had tried to suppress for months. No, years.

She knows.

God, she knows.

The fantasies, the language he used, the devotion pressed into every word of those wretched pages. You had seen it all. There was no salvaging his image now. Not the image he had so carefully constructed. The polished, respectful, reliable subordinate. The ideal employee who never overstepped, never strayed, who served you with silent loyalty.

Tch. As if you didn't jerk your cock off to her last night.

A fraud.

And yet, even as shame licked at the edges of his chest like fire, part of him thrilled in it. Because you knew, and you had read it. And you called him here.

"Did you enjoy writing them?" You finally spoke.

His throat tightened. "…Yes."

God, he hated himself for it, but he meant it. Every line was a prayer. Every fantasy was a cathedral built in your image. He’d written them in the quiet of the night, behind locked doors, whispering your name in a confession. And now, he sat like a sinner at your altar, awaiting judgment.

"Do you fantasize about me often, Caleb?" Your voice came quiet- careful not to pique any curious ears from outside your office- but it pierced right through him.

He looked up, and it was a mistake.

Because one look on your ravishing beauty was enough to make him feel his pulse throb in his neck, enough to give him the bold will to admit everything he had ever kept.

"I—" he tried, then paused. Of course, he couldn't lie. Not to you. "Yes."

Caleb dropped his gaze once more.

Say something. Apologize. Beg, Caleb!

But his mouth wouldn't open. His thoughts were nothing but swirled, messy, undignified: Touch me. Destroy me. Just don’t send me away.

What frightened him most wasn’t your punishment, but the possibility of your indifference. That you might turn cold, dismiss him, begin to look at him like he meant nothing.

He would rather burn than having to endure such a thing.

"I understand if I need to be...reassigned," he said at last, breaking through the silence like glass. "I’ll submit the request myself." But even as he said it, his chest screamed don’t go. Don’t let her push you away. Please.

Caleb didn’t move when you circled back to your desk and sat down slowly, with all the calm of someone entirely in control. You reached into your desk drawer.

Instantly, he recognized the sound of the papers before he saw it. Those cursed, damning papers. The one that held every word he'd bled onto the page in a haze of desire and delusion. You placed it neatly on the desk, right in front of you, then tapped it once with your finger.

"Read it."

What?

Caleb’s head snapped up, eyes wide. He blinked. "I’m sorry?"

Your gaze didn’t falter. “Out loud. All of it.”

Silence expanded like smoke. He couldn’t breathe.

The humiliation hit him first- a visceral, gut-wrenching kind. His entire body recoiled at the thought. Every word in that set was an exposure and a betrayal of all the control he tried so hard to keep. The fantasies weren’t gentle. They weren’t clean. They were obsessive and creepy and dirty.

But beneath that terror...

Oh god, he wanted to obey.

To surrender.

To give you everything you asked for, even this.

His hands moved slowly, hesitantly, before he took the set of pages. Caleb licked his lips. “I…”

Your voice cut through him like a blade. “Begin.”

He inhaled shakily. The words clung to his throat. "...'I don’t remember the last night I slept without h-her shadow on my ceiling. I think about her every morning before I put on this mask. The perfect subordinate. She doesn’t know I would burn this entire company down for five minutes alone with her in a room where I’m not beneath her title. Where I-I’m not just her assistant. But that’s just fantasy... isn’t it?'"

His voice cracked on the last line, hands gripping the paper tighter. Don’t stop. You can’t stop now. She asked for this.

“…‘I watched her pour coffee in the break room once, and my hands clenched so tight I left nail marks in my palm. Because I thought, uhm- what if she told me to... kneel? I would, without shame. I would even thank her for it.” He could feel his own face burning, chest tight with breathless exhilaration.

You still hadn’t interrupted. You were listening intently.

And that, somehow, was the most unbearable part.

Caleb swallowed again. “…‘S-Sometimes I pretend she’s already mine. In my head, I undo her buttons. One by one. I trace the hollow of her throat with the same precision I use to format her spreadsheets. I press my mouth to her skin and whisper everything I’ve never said aloud.’”

The words hung in the air, and Caleb's voice had stopped trembling. Rather, it had settled into a lower tone, as if he had crossed an invisible threshold and found himself oddly unafraid.

You sat back in your chair, as if reclining into a throne you’d claimed without effort. You let the silence stretch, then reached for it like a violinist would a bowstring. “Well,” you began, “That was almost poetic, Caleb. I wasn’t expecting you to be such a romantic.”

No response.

So you talked again. "But that was only the second page, wasn’t it?" You gently tapped your nails on the papers. "There are more. Many more, much more explicit and... less reverent."

Caleb's eyes finally lifted, cautiously, like the weight of them had to be managed.

Gone was the nervous boy you summoned into your office. Because in his place stood a man unraveling at his own pace.

"I wonder," you mused, tapping a finger to your chin, "were those written before or after the one where you wrote about bending me over my own desk with your belt around my wrists?"

To your surprise, Caleb didn't flinch.

Instead, he reached forward, closed the pages with a definitive sound, and slid it across your desk- never once breaking eye contact.

Fine. If you want more, I'll give you more.

Then he smiled.

But you won't come out of your office untouched.

Not the polite, warm smile he usually shows you when you walk past each other, no. It was something colder, sleek. Like the moment a knife catches light. "Would you like me to read that one too, Y/n?"

You arched a brow, mildly amused by the sudden shift. But you didn't speak. Not yet.

Caleb moved to stand up, a single deliberate action that suggested something had changed between the two of you. "I can recite it from memory," he says, "If you prefer."

It was your turn to swallow.

"I wrote those pages to survive you," Caleb lowered his lashes. "To avoid myself from doing something... irresponsible." and then, he stepped forward. "Now, you're asking me to read them and revisit every word. So if this is what you want, Y/n-" he rests both of his hands against your desk, leaning forward. "Then you don't get to act surprised if I stop playing the nice guy."

There was a long pause, and you didn't fill it.

But Caleb noticed the way your throat moved when you gulped, the way your hands began to clench themselves.

You were wavering.

And he, who had once trembled under the weight of your attention, now stood taller. Still bound by his shirt and tie, yes- but no longer leashed by fear. "I won’t read them."

Your eyes narrowed a fraction. "Excuse me?"

"I don’t need to," Caleb slowly began to circle your desk, approaching you closer, and it made you unconsciously back away. "The ones you’re thinking of… I know those by heart."

He had grown into his obsession.

Into yours, apparently.

This was utterly inappropriate and absurd. You knew better. And yet, you stared up at him like you were the one caught, like you were the one awaiting permission. And Caleb... Caleb merely looked down at you, head slightly tilted.

With a measured grace, Caleb dropped to one knee, eyes never leaving yours.

And you, to your own horror, didn't look away. Because you should've stood up, said his name in a warning. You should've reprimanded him in a professional way. Not whatever this is. But instead, you sat still.

Caleb's palms slid, languidly, up the length of your calves. He inhaled softly. God.

"I rememer writing about this one," His fingers paused just below your knees, and you could feel how long they were through your stockings. The sheer audacity of him, touching you with that same calm he used in reports and presentations, made you pick up your breathing. "You leaned back in this very chair, and you parted your legs. Just a bit. Enough to make me desperate and beg."

You stopped breathing.

"You watched me as I touched you," His index finger teased the hem of your thigh-high. "Slower than I wanted to. And when I couldn't take it anymore..." He smiled faintly, cruelly. "I took your skirt off, I took your panties off, and I took your virginity."

Then, he presses his lips against your knee, inhaling your scent once more. I want to fuck this woman already. God, please let me. He shuts his eyes, then slowly, made his way to the upper area of your thigh with his mouth.

You almost whimpered, fingers gripping tightly on the armrests of your chair.

"I went with eating you out. I licked your pussy, sucked your clit, and you moaned, Y/n, you grabbed my hair and-" Caleb opens his eyes, and looks up at you. "You came right into my mouth."

You grabbed his necktie and pulled him closer, which catches him off guard.

He stared at you, stunned- for once, without something ready to say. His chest rose and fell with the quiet force of someone whose fantasy had just collided, violently, with reality.

Caleb swallowed.

Nonetheless, his voice returned low, strained with a trembling thrill. "Do you want me to recreate it?"

You didn't respond.

So he reached out, his hands trembling slightly as they slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt up to reveal the lacy edge of your panties. He leaned in, burying his face against the soft fabric, inhaling deeply the scent of you, a heady mix of your natural aroma and the faint perfume of your lotion. Fuck.

Unable to resist any longer, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly dragged them down your legs. As they fell to the floor, he tossed them aside carelessly.

You told yourself it's just this once, and though you knew that it's a weak attempt of justification, you repeated it inside your head. Just this once. Then you'll end this madness.

Caleb seemed to sense your hesitation, and he pressed his advantage, bruhing his lips against your bare folds in the lightest of kisses. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of sensation shooting up your spine. "Please," he breathed, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your pussy lips, teasing the sensitive flesh. "Let me taste you."

Just this once, he thought, just this once and then I'll end this. I swear I will.

"Then do it," you commanded. "Show me what a devoted servant you are."

Oh.

Caleb didn't hesitate. He immediately buried his face between your thighs, his mouth covering your most intimate area as he began to eat you out with desperate hunger. His tongue delved between your folds, stroking and probing at the slick, heated flesh.

"Mmm, s'good-" he groaned into you, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your core. God, she tastes even better than I fucking imagined.

He sealed his lips around your clit and suckled hard, his tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. His hands gripped your thighs while at it, pulling you harder against his face as he feasted on you, his moans growing louder and more wanton by the second.

God, help me or I'm going to lose control.

Caleb's cock throbbed almost painfully in the confines of his pants, the intense taste of your arousal making him harder than he had ever been in his life. He ached to free himself, to stroke his aching flesh while he pleasured you, but he resisted the urge. This moment was about you, about worshipping your body and bringing you to the heights of ecstasy.

That's it, baby. Come for me.

When Caleb looked up at you, he looked like a boy lost in a dream, looking wholly out of place in his loosened tie and undone collar.

You had come into his mouth within a blink of an eye.

Thick vanilla streaks now clung to the corner of his mouth, a smear just beneath his bottom lip, the pale sheen catching the lights of your office.

His lips parted slightly, face flushed. He looked up at you like he wanted you to see how the haze within his eyes strayed farther from innocence. Like he knew exactly what he looked like, mess and all.

Your fingers reached out and brushed lightly against the corner of his mouth. One soft sweep. Then another, slow and deliberate, catching the trail that had slipped down toward his chin. Your thumb dragged across his lower lip last, then paused at the center.

Caleb didn't move.

He only exhaled shakily, lashes fluttering once as he stared into your beauty. His mouth stayed slightly open, as if daring you to go further. Then, in the heat of the moment, he rises up to gently grab your chin with all of his fingers. "Will you let me do anything to you?"

You nod, wordlessly.

"Open your mouth then." He whispers, and when you did, he spits into it. You shut your eyes, breath hitching. Caleb sighed at the sight of his own saliva pooling in your mouth, this time he's the one wiping away the drool with his thumb. "You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

It didn't take long before the two of you agreed on fucking in your office.

You're bent over your own worktable ridiculously, struggling to get a better grip on the edge while you could feel the cock of your subordinate incessantly piercing through the slit of your pussy. "Caleb, slow down-"

"I can't hear you." He slams it deep that it pounds against the flesh of your womb. The pleasure elicits a whiny moan out of you, and in response, Caleb behind you grabs your face to cover your mouth. Of course, you wouldn't want your co-workers hearing you. You wouldn't want them exposing a scandal between the manager and her own subordinate, right? "So goddamn tight."

Like she was made for my dick.

And then, he increases the pace.

Caleb lifts your ass up higher to angle himself better, before repetitively pounding you down the table with a mind of a machine that focused on an objective to cum in your sex.

He pulls out, and in again. Again, and again, and again, and again.

Faster, deeper, harder, he shuts his eyes and rolls his head back at the feeling of being squeezed by your very walls. Oh, he could get used to this sensation for decades. He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his pistoning cock while he fucked you with wild abandon. He knew you were close, because he could hear it in the desperate, keening cries that spilled from your lips with each brutal thrust.

With a sharp cry, your body convulsed beneath him, your pussy clenching down on him like a vice when you came undone. He felt your juices gushing around his shaft, soaking his cock and balls as you rode out the waves of the intense orgasm.

I can't stop.

But even as he felt you spasming around him, he didn't let up. He couldn't bring himself to stop the relentless assault on your pussy. He was driven by a primal need to keep you in a state of constant, mindless ecstasy, to make you forget about everything except the feeling of his cock splitting you open again and again.

I can't seem to stop.

Caleb hooked one of your legs over his elbow, the new angle allowing him to plunge even deeper into your still-quivering pussy. He could feel your slick walls fluttering around his pistoning shaft, trying in vain to adjust to the relentless invasion.

Fuck, I'm so deep inside her...

He could hear the obscene, wet sounds of your coupling filling the room, the slap of skin against skin and the squelch of your arousal with each brutal thrust. I'm going to fuck her hard like this everyday. He bit his lip, then opens his mouth to exhale desperately. So hard, and deep, that she can't look at another man without thinking of me.

He could feel his orgasm building to a crescendo, his balls drawing up tight as he slammed into you faster, the force of his thrusts shaking the desk beneath you. He could tell he was close just from the telltale tightening in his gut that signaled his impending release.

I'm going to cum.

With one final, savage thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you. I'm cumming in this perfect fucking cunt. His cock pulsed and throbbed as he exploded inside you. He could feel his hot seed gushing forth that painted your insides with thick, virile ropes of his essence. "Take that all."

Caleb collapsed against you for a moment, his sweat-slicked chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He could feel the aftershocks of his intense orgasm still rippling through him.

You weren't sure anymore if you could resist seeing this man each day.

You feel his fingers tucking the wet strands of your hair behind your ear, before placing a kiss on your temple. "You think we're done already?" He chuckles deeply, rising back up and grabbing your hips. "I'm still about to fuck you against that window."

And after that, in the elevator. Then, in my car. And then, in the public restroom. All of those, in one day.

#lnds #lnds x reader #love and deepspace #lads headcanon #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #lads caleb #caleb #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb smut #caleb fic #caleb xia #caleb x non!mc reader #caleb x mc #caleb x y/n #love and deepspace x reader

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myxomato515 · 10 months ago

Text

Schoolhouse Rankings: Part 2

The 11 Where It Starts To Get Good

Symbol key: ⭐"big one" most popular song of the season 🟩highest ranking song of the season 🟥lowest ranking song of the season ⚡seizure warning! prevalent flashing lights 👍i have an interesting fact to share ✖multiplication rock 🇺🇲america 🖥computer💲money 🖋grammar 🧪science

38. 🇺🇲I'm Gonna Send Your Vote to College👍

The 30th anniversary special of Schoolhouse Rock! And it's... alright. Like, I'm not a huge fan, and I can honestly see why it's so commonly put in people's bottom fives. It's a bit tough to pinpoint why it's so middle-of-the-road, but when I think about it, that's because everything's off. The instrumental is good, but the rest is shaky. Jack Sheldon's delivery is stilted and at times offbeat, and you can tell in his voice he's aging. I forgot to mention it in Presidential Minute, and it was especially bad in that song. The animation is also pretty stiff sometimes. The biggest flaw in this song, though, is there's too much going on. There's so many sound effects and prominent characters and random shit going on that it's really muddled. I hear that complaint all the time with Busy Prepositions(more on that later), but I think it's worse here because no one and nothing is really introduced, everything sort of just meanders in a well-meaning but clumsy way. That's not to say this short is devoid of good qualities, though; I find Boothy endearing as fuck. Like, besides Scooter and Mr. Chips, he's the first leading guy I actually really vibe with. I would get him confused with Bill all the time when I was little, which is weird because they're very dissimilar in a lot of aspects, but I knew what was going on as a kid because I liked him then too. He also has a couple of really smoothly animated moments, such as when he pulls the screen back like a curtain with his little hook. I will say, it really does drum up hype for the 30th anniversary, becaue it's big and overwhelming and bloated. Grandiose and indulgent, maybe a little too much so, but still. My last comment is that this song was the only one of the entire series that taught me literally nothing as a kid. It's not like I straight up didn't remember it like Tax Man Max, but I watched it several times and had no damn idea what the electoral college was afterwards. I don't know if that's just because it's a tough concept to explain to children, or if it really did fail to educate, or if I was just a stupid child, but even nowadays I think how they explain it is a little confusing. It really get swept up in the clutteredness of the rest of the song. A whirlwind, for sure.

-Fun fact! This is the only song in Schoolhouse Rock to consistently go over the three minute limit. All Scooter Computer episodes are three minutes minus their intros, and Three Is A Magic Number and My Hero, Zero, while initially being more than three minutes, were cut down due to false information and time constraints respectively. Since this episode wasn't aired on TV, it was able to go over three minutes.

37. 🖋Lolly Lolly Lolly Get Your Adverbs🟥

Very quaint setting, and I enjoy the premise. The adverbs store makes for some elaborate visuals despite the limited color palette. I also enjoy the little interludes between verses where the owners film their TV commercials, very cute. A classic in these aspects, but oh god the chipmunk vocals… I initially didn’t find them too annoying, but they wear horribly quickly. Don’t even care how packed and fun the lyrics are because I just dislike the vocals so damn much. The characters also aren’t too compelling, which holds it back further because I honestly don’t care much for the Lolly family. Finally, I’ve heard lots of people praise the instrumental, but I don’t quite get it, as it’s sort of just the standard Schoolh

-Lowest placement in Grammar Rock

36. 🖋A Noun Is a Person, Place, or Thing

I heard someone describe this song as "harmless" once, and yeah, that's a good way of summing it up. It's definitely one of the most generic Schoolhouse Rock songs. It does not instill much emotion, but it's definitely not bad! In fact, I think this is where the songs start truly getting good. It's pretty breezy and blows by quick. There's some cool instruments used, like when you can hear kazoo in the Mrs. Jones verse, or a flute in the ferry verse. It's dynamic enough to be praised, but not so dymanic that it's truly standout. Animation is simple, but not great or bad. The characters are okay. Those are both middle of the road. I will say, this is one of Lynn Ahren's best deliveries. I'm not a big fan of most of her songs, or at least most of her deliveries, but I like this more relaxed one from her. She's not pushing herself too hard, and that's good for a song like this. That's really it, it's good, but not great enough to stand out from the crowd.

35. 🧪A Victim of Gravity 🟥👍

This song would probably be higher up if I was a fan of the doo-wop style it goes for. It really does sound nice, don't get me wrong, but this is probably the only song very heavily skewed based on preference. Your mileage may vary. It's a pretty fun animation though! Like, really, I don't have much on this song besides that the greaser guy is fun and the rest is not for me.

-Fun fact! This is the only Schoolhouse Rock song to be primarily sung by a preexisting band- Performed by The Tokens -Lowest placement in Science Rock

34. 💲Walkin' On Wall Street

Another entry from newcomer Money Rock, Walkin’ On Wall Street has a few attributes that are nice, but don’t do too much to set it apart from the crowd. The most obvious thing is the artstyle; I love how experimental they got with the SHR art style in this season, and this is one of the more radical changes that goes over pretty darn well. I like Lester and Leroy, they’rw a fun duo, and the newsboy is fun although mor as iconic as Fireworks’ newsboy. The instrumental is nice and jazzy, and that’s about the end of my praise. Dave Frishburg has a distinct voice when he wants to. In his other song, $7.50 Once a Week, he’s got a nice Bostonian accent that makes the way he stretches his words more interesting, but he supresses not just that, but also a lot of his range. He doesn’t have much of one in his other appearances, but $7.50 had a lot more variety in his tones. Same with instrumentals. Not to compare too much, but it never changes a lot and it’s a little boring when lots of other songs from Money Rock have better style. The style points from the animation are big helps, but it falls a little short sonically, and since that’s what I’m mostly basing this on, this song places lower.

-Lowest placement for Dave Frishburg

33. 🇺🇲The Shot Heard Round the World

I have a love-hate relationship with this song, as in I both love and hate everything it does. Bob Dorough's voice is stern and aggressive at points, which is great for the feel it's going for and the subject, but it makes for some really bland deliveries. The animation is a fun twist on the Schoolhouse Rock style, and I like how the people look, but a lot of really stiff, stilted moments. The instrumental is consistently strong, but there's not enough fluctuation. I'm really hot and cold on this song. On a good day you could see this around the mid twenties, and on a bad day this could be in the bottom ten. I dunno, ask me tomorrow and my ranking will probably change.

32. 🧪The Greatest Show on Earth/The Weather Show ⚡👍

The episode that was almost lost... A.K.A. essentially the precursor for Tax Man Max. It's definitely a more developed version of that Broadway feel, not in style, but actually format. It's divided into a three-act structure, which is a pretty endearing way to structure it. I'm a fan. As for sound, though, it's nothing special really. Instrumental is alright, but I'm not a big fan of Bob Kaliban's voice. Not that it's bad, it's just not great like Dorough's or Sheldon's, or even interesting like Patrick Donovan's or Dave Frishburg's beyond the I'm gonna assume British accent he's got. But the character he's attached to??? So fun. I love the little broadway guy, he's so bouncy and goofy and great... I often see Greatest Show on Earth ranked way down with Tax Man Max, usually right next to it, and a common reason between the two is that no one likes the Weather Show guy or Max. That's one of the only aspects I find consistently stellar between the two. Weather Show guy is so awesome. The ladies he performs with kind of look like fish, though. Not a fan of how they're stylized, but the singers attached to them are serviceable. There's specific sections I really like about this song- the opening and closing segments sandwiching the acts come to mind, but the rest is just okay. Coloring is also pretty good here! It keeps up the respectable trait of Science Rock that is a lack of plain white backgrounds, which I'm glad for. Comparing the various aspects of this song is like a rollercoaster: Lots of highs and lows, but unlike a rollercoaster it's not super exciting.

-Fun fact! This song was pulled from airing during a copyright dispute with the Ringling Bros. over the phrase "The Greatest Show on Earth," a term trademarked for their circus. The episode remained unaired from then until it was changed to remove any mention of the phrase, including the title, which was changed to merely "The Weather Show." I personally listened to the original version for this ranking, though there isn't much difference.

31. 🖋Unpack Your Adjectives

This is a far more chipper tune than Figure Eight, which initially may seem like a negative when you read the feedback I had on Blossom Dearie's ghostly, creepy doll-esque delivery, but she works just as well as a cheery little girl on her way back from a camping trip. Yeah, the premise here is pretty cute, big fan of Molly the camper and her little turtle guy. Love their little camping adventure and how it ties into the way they label everything with adjective signs. I think adjectives, despite them literally being describing words, thus conveying things such as physical traits that'd make the animation easier, are one of the hardest parts of speech to make an entire song around. You can make it, but making it compelling is the thing. Giving a little bite-sized story along with the facts. And this definitely held 4-year-old me's attention. The flute really shines in the instrumental, which is really cool because this song has a strong lightweight feel that goes very well with everything else. And the animation is colored in the watercolor style Elbow Room had, but taken up a notch further; It looks like whiteboard markers at some point. The simple, airy colors finish off this very consistent, overall good song. Cute, but as much praise as I've given it, it's not great, and definitely not my favorite. Dearie's deliveries still aren't as great as they are in Figure Eight, and a few sections such as the section on comparisons fall a little short of the podium. I also would have liked a little more color, as the white patches make the coloring look half-finished.

-Highest placement for Blossom Dearie

30. 🧪Do the Circulation

Great song, don’t get me wrong, but you have to be in the mood for it. This is another touchy one for me, because everything ties into the premise super well. Which is great! I love that it truly embraces the creativity! It's going for a dance craze type thing, hence the title, and it's exactly what you think when you hear it. I'm shocked that the women singing, Joshie Armstead, Mary Sue Berry, and Maeretha Stewart, weren't already performing together before this, because they have great synergy. There's a few times where they harmonize and it doesn't sound great, but for the most part they're pretty great. The song keeps its pace very well, like by the halfway point it barely feels like a minute has passed. Characters are mostly cool too! Though overall the animation is a little plain. It's sort of like A Victim of Gravity, where I'm overall just not the world's biggest fan of this sort of style. There's days where it'll hit hard and I'll listen a couple times, and days where I don't wanna be anywhere near it, so I think near the middle of the list is where I'd average it.

29. 💲Where the Money Goes

The artstyle of this short falls somewhere in the middle of the more faithful Money Rocks and the experimental ones, where it definitely keeps the spirit of old Schoolhouse Rock, but it features a choppier framerate with thinner lineart and chunky shadows/highlights. I'm a fan of it, and I love the dad and his little tuba kid, Red(as confirmed in a design sheet shown off on the DVD!). They're such a fun duo, and the ending where Red can't even fit into the bus with the tuba did get me to chuckle. Since this is about family finances, it takes place in a more domestic setting, but it doesn't utilize that in a particularly outstanding way like, for example, The Tale of Mr. Morton. Rather than focus on details, the backgrounds are simple gradients, which is a little disappointing since this came out after that short. They don't really run away with the subject either, which totally makes sense and isn't really their fault as it's a pretty grounded concept, but it's not very replayable because of that. A good showing from Money rock, but there's better coming up.

28. 🧪Electricity, Electricity ⚡👍

Holy crap is this song a bombshell. This is top 15, possibly top 10 sonically. Zachary Sanders has a hell of a voice, and he doesn’t flex it too much here, but there’s a few little vocal flairs here and there that are so endearing. The delivery of “Turn that generator by any means” still has me closing my eyes and humming contentedly. The recurring utterance of “Electricity, eeee-lec-tri-city!” every ten or so seconds never gets boring no matter how repetitive it is, and it’s such an earworm that no matter how little I used to think about the show, something as simple as flicking on a lightswitch would make the melody buzz around in my head for a bit. It’s sticky in a really stellar way. The instrumental is bouncy and really helps carry things along, and it’s not my fave but a few stray guitar strums keep my ears open. The music does a bangup job of carrying this thing, which is good, because the animation really brings it down… It isn’t too special at first. The main overalls guy and the sheep are cute and kinda funny sometimes, but they aren’t my fave characters. The fatal flaw of this short, however, is the rapid flashing of “ELECTRICITY” onscreen every time the word is said. It isn’t small like in Telegraph Line, or short like Tax Man Max or The Check’s In the Mail, but it takes up the entire screen and can last upwards of four seconds at a time. If you aren’t epileptic, you’ll probably have a headache by the end of it. I know I get one sometimes. I was scared of this short as a kid because of the flashing lights. The fact that maybe a third of this animation is just “ELECTRICITY” in yellow and black flashing at my sensetive little blue eyes is not sliding. Killer short with a killer flaw.

-Fun fact! This song is why I have the epilepsy/eyestrain warning symbol. It was sort of just a booby prize for this song, as the flashing lights were so common and large, the Disney+ version slows down the lights. This happens in most others with the lightning bolt emoji next to them, but those are lesser instances; The slowed lights make the Disney+ version of this song actively worse, as parts are slowed in a way that leaves some animation sequences incomplete. -Lowest placement for Zachary Sanders

#schoolhouse rock #review #had to split the middle into 2 parts cuz ugh writing this took a longass time #mind your p's and queue's

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shehungthemoon · 1 year ago

Photo

I queued this for a whole four years bc I only saw it on march 1, 2020

Ferb’s birthday is on February 29th (leap year day).

#phineas and ferb #ferb fletcher #mind your queues and p’s

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ecstxsyy · 5 months ago

Text

BITE ME. | S. WINCHESTER ❦︎

Sam uses his size to his advantage.

based on this comment.

(requests for v-day event are closed!)

18+ mdni!

sam winchester x fem!reader

warnings: porn with no plot, p in v, light biting, unprotected sex.

cupid’s candy hearts masterlist

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

SAM WINCHESTER has the biggest size kink ever, he loves how much he towers over your small frame. You were average height but Sam was just huge, and he used it to his advantage as much as he could.

When you have sex, he uses his weight to pin you to the mattress below you, plowing his cock into you. Your eyes roll back into your head, his dick was much like the rest of him, absolutely huge. Your legs shook around his waist as you clawed at the rose petal-ridden sheets.

The night started as a Valentine’s Day date, the two of you left Dean to do some research on a case while the two of you got dinner and rented a separate motel room. Sam wanted to give you a special night, no matter how crazy your life is.

“Fuck, Sam. You’re so deep,” you cried out, Sam took this as his queue to hoist your legs over his shoulders, giving him an even deeper angle to pound into you. You nearly screeched at the change of positions, his tip bullying your g-spot. Sam hung his head into the crook of your neck when he got an idea, he sunk his teeth into the side of your neck, biting you lightly. This pulled a loud moan out of you, your cunt clenching around his cock.

“You like that?” Sam asked, a cocky smirk plastered on his face. If he wasn't giving you some of the best sex of your life you’d give him a snarky response, but your mind was blank, the only thing you could about was how good he was fucking you.

Sam felt almost drunk on the feeling he got from the look on your face, your eyebrows scrunched and relaxed with every thrust and your eyes looked glossy and full of bliss. He knew you were gonna cum soon but couldn't vocalize it, he could feel your walls tighten and relax around him, pushing him closer to his own orgasm.

When you came, your legs shook, and moans tumbled out of your mouth loudly, the two of you had given up on being quiet a long time ago. Sam rode you through your orgasm, one last clench of your pussy sending him over the edge.

Sam came inside of you with a loud grunt, painting your walls with his sticky seed. He fucked it inside of you for a bit before pulling out of you slowly and collapsing on top of you. The two of you sat in silence for a brief moment, panting and out of breath until Sam decided to run a shower for you.

Once the water was warm, he carried you to the bathroom and began cleaning your sticky skin. He made sure you were completely clean before dressing you in one of his shirts and tucking you into bed, crawling in on the other side to cuddle with you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

───── ⋆ ⋅ ꨄ︎ ⋅⋆ ─────

#sam winchester #sam Winchester x fem!reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #supernatural #smut #18+ mdni #nay nay writes sam winchester !#nay nay’s valentine’s day event !#nay nay writes !

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blue-jisungs · 1 month ago

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Hiii can i request nct wish reaction of them being jealous/protective towards their gf? Thank u so muchh 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ PROTECTIVE/JEALOUS WISHIES 🧸ྀི - wc 1075 (in total)

[ extras ] kinda creepy man in yushi's. some members' parts r longer, some shorter. sorry!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! i hope u enjoy this! sorry u had to wait for so long :(

@kstrucknet ˙ . ꒷ 🪽 . 𖦹˙— @neocity-net

┆彡 SION [ 시온 ]

go get them shy boy!

when he’s jealous, he won’t say much: just observe and sulk

protective, though, he’s not afraid to step in!!! will simply tell them to go away, sometimes even grab your hand <3

you were chatting with a cashier, the coffee you ordered slowly becoming cold. you’ve been trying to go back to sion for the past ten minutes but the guy just kept talking.

out of a sudden, you felt a hand sneaking down and connecting with yours. you saw sion and smiled at him.

“i believe there’s a queue to be taken care of” he muttered and glared at the cashier. he just huffed something incoherent and left.

“sorry. i just didn’t have the opportunity to leave” you sighed and sion squeezed your hand with reassurance.

“don’t worry. the coffee better be good or i’ll beat him up” your boyfriend scoffed. you just giggled, knowing too well he wouldn’t even be able to hurt a fly.

┆彡 RIKU [ 前田陸 ]

truly black cat behavior

he will keep his eyes on you and step in if he senses he’s needed

but when he’s jealous, he will definitely walk up and grab your waist with a small smirk (and if they don’t get the signal, he’ll even sneak a kiss or two)

“yeah but i’m not alone here” you said, for like tenth time this night. yet, the weirdo kept on trying to get your number.

“vouch”

before you saw riku, you felt his warm hand on your hip. he slid it to the back pocket of your jeans.

“everything okay? the line to the bathroom was crazy” riku asked, starting down at the guy coldly.

“yes, i was just, uh, going” the man said. your boyfriend pressed a kiss onto your cheek and watched the stranger leave.

“and you? are you okay?” he asked. you grinned, nodding. now that he was here, you were.

┆彡 YUSHI [ 得能勇志 ]

shy observer v2

he trusts you. sometimes he’ll get pouty afterwards (no worries, kisses fix him!)

and if there’s a situation when he has to intervene, he will. calmly… intimidatingly so.

you were simply grocery shopping, you and yushi split up to make it quicker. but you’ve been stuck at the vegetable section for fifteen minutes now. you met an old friend but he seemed to be more interested if you’re single. and you kept saying you’re not.

“i really need to go. my boyfriend and i are in a hurry–“ you said.

“i don’t see him” he shrugged. just when you wanted to leave, the man grabbed your wrist.

“sir, she’s clearly uncomfortable” yushi’s voice sounded from behind you and you let out a sigh of relief.

“and you are…?” your old friend asked.

“yushi. y/n’s boyfriend. now please let her go or i’ll have to call the security” yushi said with a straight face, dead serious. the guy gave up and left quickly. you grabbed yushi’s hand and he just placed a soft kiss on your head “sorry it took so long”

┆彡 JAEHEE [ 재희 ]

in both cases he will walk up to you and the person

hand on your arm, joining the conversation and making it very clear by his cold gaze that he’s not liking the way you’re being talked to

might get shy if you tease him about it later tho >:P

you could feel jaehee’s gaze burning holes through you. the waiter at the check out clearly didn’t, though. and didn’t mind the line forming behind you, apparently.

“extra sugar in your coffee? because you’re so sweet, hm?” he winked.

“well, that one is for my boyfriend–“ you started and were startled by jaehee’s hand suddenly on your arm.

“why is it taking so long? did the card decline?” he asked coldly, staring at the worker. his jaw was clenched, clearly not in the mood. he just wanted to share a coffee with his partner.

“no, sir. just the receipt, here you go”

┆彡 RYO [ 廣瀬遼 ]

depends in which mood he’s in 😭

bc ryo can either act all silly and just … walk up and tell a fun fact abt you (“she snores so loudly in her sleep… yeah… it’s awful if you ask me”)

OR he can full on just tell them to go away

you were flattered that someone tried to flirt with you but you really had enough. you just wanted to buy a perfume for your aunt and not…

“now this floral scent would perfectly match a lovely lady like you–“ the employee furrowed their brows when they saw ryo.

“this lovely lady is a very messy eater, by the way. like, the chaos after dinner… all the food somehow ends up everywhere but the plate” ryo said, not looking away from a perfume he was testing “not the mention her face. always gotta clean it up. like a baby.”

“ryo, what are you…” you frowned, confused.

“yeah. anyway, this smells like something that an old lady would wear. so perfect” ryo pointed and smiled “she mentioned it that it’s not for her”

the employee’s face turned red - not sure if it was because of ryo’s bluntness or the fact that he failed to get your number.

┆彡 SAKUYA [ 藤永咲哉 ]

this lil motherfucker (lovingly)

you’re not gonna hear the end of it if he’s jealous 😭 but he somehow manages to make it your fault ?!

and when he gets protective, he’s ready to throw hands (usually you have to stop him. other times the other guy gets confused by the combination of saku’s cute face and aggressive tendencies)

sakuya has been watching the way the employee at the stationary store kept flirting with you shamelessly. and he didn’t like it.

he stepped in, carrying a bunch of pens.

“do you work here? can you help me instead of flirting with my pretty partner? we were just going to draw something for each other but you…” sakuya started nonchalantly and your eyes widened.

“actually, he just helped me pick the best markers” you said and sakuya shrugged.

“i have markers at home, the one you bought for me. you know, we’ve been dating for like half a year and y/n is a very lovely partner. for example…” sakuya started babbling, flustering the employee.

“there’s um, self check out. if you’re in a hurry” they said and walked away, approaching another customer. sakuya just send you a devilish grin.

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua ,, @bbangbies ,, @hhaechansmoless

@loserlvrss

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girasollake · 1 year ago

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Hi! Can I request a smut imagine with prompt 48 and trope 8 with Theodore Nott.

She’s a slytherin too and a badass bitch who everybody wants to be or date

Thank youuu!

✧ theodore nott x fem!reader x jealousy x "you. are. mine."✧

(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

this took longer than i expected, thank you for your request anon! x

told u guys i’d post smth… surprise!!!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, p in v sex, some swear words, some slight cedric x reader, theo being bitchy ig, fingering, general sex stuff, orgasm denial, ummmmmm yeah i think that’s it

i’ll reread it later to fix mistakes cuz rn it’s 2 am where i live and i’m going to bed bye

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Your relationship with Theo was complicated. At least in your mind that was the most suitable word for this dynamic, you could never find anything else that would quite describe it. You were friends, that’s for sure, this was the only thing you were certain of. Some days you had found yourself tangled in his bedsheets, his soft fingers caressing your back as you lingered in his scent. But, there were also days when you didn’t speak to him at all, strolling through the halls and seeing him tug a piece of hair behind the ear of some Ravenclaw girl while simultaneously giving her his infamous smile. Even though you also flirted and went on dates with others, something inside your guts sunk down each time you saw him with a girl who was not you. And you could barely handle it. Every time you promised yourself you’ll never sleep with him again or give him your attention, you’d always end up doing the opposite. There was something about him that lured you in, it was toxic, but so divine. So, whenever his lips connected to yours in a hungry kiss, you’d forget about all of the other women he probably does this with. It was just you and him and your only thought during these moments was to stay with him like that forever.

‚-it’s not like it’s that important.’

‚Huh?’ You lifted your head and met Pansy’s annoyed face. ‚Sorry, what were you saying?’

¨What is going on with you lately?´She shook her head and sighed. ´I asked if you have a date for the ball.’ She then added.

‘Oh, well, not really.’ You shrugged.

‘Seriously? Is this about Theo again? I’ve told you multiple times that there is a fucking queue of guys just waiting for you and all you do is always go back to him.’ She huffed. ‘What about Mason? Louise? Henry? They were all head over heels for you, I don’t believe they didn’t ask you at least once.’

‘They did. I just said no.’ You mumbled and avoided her angry gaze.

SShe groaned and took a sip of her butterbeer. ‘I was not going to tell you this, but I see there is no other option.’ Pansy took a deep breath. ‘I heard the boys talking about the ball and Nott wants to take Arisa.’

You swallowed a big gulp in your throat and looked down into your drink. You expected that something like this would happen, you just didn’t think you wouldn’t be prepared to hear it.

‘’M sorry.’ She looked at your numb expression with caring eyes.

‘It’s okay Pans.’ You gave her a soft smile. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to move on.’

Even though you tried to not think about him for the next few days, it was unusually hard. He was on your mind non stop, like a song playing on repeat. On top of that, everyone was talking about the upcoming event. While walking through the halls you overheard people gossiping about the pairs, discussing what they are gonna wear and you were also a witness to roughly 7 performances of the boys creatively asking their crushes to go with them.

You walked into the courtyard and took a seat on the nearest free bench. You pulled out your sketchbook in hopes to finally draw something. Truth is, you didn’t remember the last time you practiced your beloved activity, not that you didn’t have time, you just didn’t have any ideas. This time wasn’t different, you looked around and then your gaze rested on the empty page before you. You made a soft line with your pencil and stopped, it was like your hand didn’t want to listen to your mind. You groaned and closed the sketchbook to put it in your bag again. While doing this, you felt a presence in front of you. Looking up, you saw Cedric Diggory, a charming smile plastered on his face.

‘Hi, do you have a moment?’ He asked and you stood up to face him.

‘Of course.’ You smiled.

‘I have a question.’

‘If you want my help with something, then no. I can barely finish my own essays and-‘

‘No, that’s..’ He chuckled. ‘I was wondering if you’d want to go to the ball with me?’

‘Oh..’ You bit your lip softly from the inside. ‘I.. I’ll think about it. Is that okay with you?’

‘Surely, just don’t take too long, darling.’ He sent you a wink and walked out of the courtyard.

Later that night you were studying in your dorm, soft music was playing in your headphones as you scribbled some sigils for one of the classes. Your back was turned to the door, so you didn’t hear that someone came in. It was the feeling of being observed that made you move your head to inspect the room and there he was. Theodore Nott stood next to your door, his arms were crossed and you couldn’t quite read his expression. You grabbed your headphones and took them off.

‘Knocking exists.’ You told him.

‘Not for me.’ He replied sternly.

‘What are you doing here, Theodore?’ You fixed your position on the bed so that you were fully facing him. ‘Don’t you have any other hoes to tend to?’

‘Are you going to the ball with Diggory?’ He avoided your question.

‘Why do you care?’ You stood up.

‘Answer me.’ He took a step closer to you.

‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.’

‘For fucks sake, stop being a brat and answer the question.’ He said through gritted teeth.

‘It’s none of your business.’ You replied while stepping closer to him and poking your finger into his chest.

His scent filled up your nose and you felt this forbidden feeling again. Your body was lustful, for him, but you couldn’t let him win again.

He chuckled, ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong.’

You scoffed, ‘Fine. Yes.’ You spat at him. ‘I’m going with Cedric. Is that what you wanted to hear?’

His eyes darkened at the confession, which wasn’t even true. You just wanted to get on his nerves and see what he would do. You didn’t even have time to react before he pinned you to the wall and hovered over you. Your breath hitched and you tried your best to avoid his eyes, because if you looked into them, you’d lose.

‘No, you’re not.’ He stated. ‘You are not going with anyone.’

‘Why? Why the fuck do you care so much?!’ Your eyes were glued to the ceiling.

He gripped your face with one of his hands and forced you to look at him. You closed your eyes.

‘You.’ He whispered and brought his lips closer to yours before breathily adding the rest. ‘Are. Mine.’

The sound of his voice was angelic and it sent a certain feeling down to your core. You tried your best to resist but your eyes fluttered open and met his. You lost.

He grabbed your face and connected your lips in a hungry kiss. You whimpered into his mouth and cursed yourself in your mind. Why was he so addictive? Why couldn’t you quit? He just felt too good to be true. Kissing you in all the right places, his fingers touching where you needed him most, every time you felt him inside of you, it felt like heaven.

He took a few steps back and tried to not break the kiss. He pushed you onto the mattress and with one of his hands he pushed all the books off the bed. He left wet kisses along your jawline and you moaned at the feeling. He discarded both of your shirts and attached his lips to your chest, leaving a couple love bites along the way.

‘I want you to say it.’ He mumbled into your ear.

‘Hm?’ You were brought out of your trance.

‘I want you to admit you’re mine.’

‘But am I?’ He stopped kissing your neck and gripped your throat.

‘Are you?’ He raised his brow and smirked challengingly, knowing you’d fold under him.

You stared deep into his eyes and swallowed harshly because of his grip, before replying, ‘I’m yours.’

‘Good girl.’ He let go of your neck and connected your lips once again.

Soon enough both of you were a sweaty mess, clothes laying somewhere on the wooden floor, soft sounds escaping your lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His breath on your neck and occasional kisses made you feel dizzy, his fingers making you squirm from the pleasure, but it wasn’t enough.

‘I need to feel you.’ You breathed out and Theo didn’t waste a second.

He positioned himself on top of you and slowly entered your aching pussy. You threw your head back and he used that to immediately attach his lips to your neck once again.

‘’S okay, darling. You’re doing so good f’me.’ He whispered to help you relax.

His voice made you let go of the tension in your lower body, finally allowing him to move at a pace so perfect for both of you. He lifted you up and spinned both of you, so that you were on top of him. His thrusts became quicker and stronger, one of his hands was caressing your breasts, while the other rubbed your clit so deliciously. You cried out his name a few times when you were close, but he always stopped just then. He just smirked every time and continued his actions, it turned him on, watching you whine on top of him. He felt he was getting closer to his release, so he sped up again, and this time his hand stayed on your sweet spot. You reached your high with a loud moan and threw your head back, your hand grabbing Theo’s arm. He released inside of you with a loud groan and you used that to push away his hand which was still rubbing circles on your bud, too sensitive for more. You collapsed on top of him and gave him a peck on his collarbone. Theo reached for the blanket and covered the two of you.

‘I lied.’ You mumbled.

‘What?’

‘I’m not going with Cedric.’ You replied softly. ‘I told him I’d think about it and..’

‘Good.’ He interrupted. ‘You’re going with me then.’

‘Am I?’ You looked up at him playfully. ‘I thought you were taking Arisa.’

‘Who?’ He replied and you giggled. ‘She asked me to go. But I refused.’

‘Why? She’s a nice girl.’

‘Maybe. But she isn’t you.’ He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. ‘And I belong solely to you.’

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

@ girasollake 2024

#imagine #x reader #🤍 - girasollake writing event ☾ ⋆*#theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x fem!reader #theo nott smut #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x fem!reader

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shehungthemoon · 10 months ago

Text

HAHA

so there's this devastating period of dramatic irony during revenge of the sith where obi-wan genuinely believes that anakin died on coruscant during order 66, like he assumes anakin died a hero at the temple, going down with the order itself, because it doesn't occur to him that it may be any other way. his grief is overwhelming, he's shaking and lost and needs yoda to reorient himself back into being a jedi at all. he does pull himself together, but then matthew woodring stover decides to punch the audience in the gut anyway:

just look at obi-wan instinctively thinking of himself in the first person plural because anakin is so much a part of who he is and how he approaches the world, so deeply embedded in his language patterns too. like how many times must he have been accidentally slapped by memories like this, even after discovering what anakin became? his habitual jokes and quips are tied to the man he used to banter with so often. his mind is full of mines armed with grief haha

#gonna kill someone. u know who.#star wars #obi wan kenobi #obikin #matthew stover #mind your queues and p’s

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st4ringlow · 9 months ago

Note

atsumu secretly dating reader the nerd of the school

miya atsumu x nerd!reader

MID-YEAR EXAMINATION RESULTS

1- (L/N) (Y/N)

2- HIROSHI KAITO

3- ...................

atsumu gave a slight shrug, recognizing the two familiar names at the top of the list. he squinted, scanning the list closely in search of his own name.

143- MIYA ATSUMU

well that's not bad, he thinks.

atsumu swiftly made his way out of the throng of students crowding around to see the list, when the sound of a conversation caught his interest. "seems like i beat you again huh?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. "maybe you need to work harder then," you put both of your hands on your waist, with a smirk on your face as you taunt your ultimate academic rival.

hiroshi gritted his teeth, clearly irritated that the fact he lost again—to you. and the way you're taunting him right now is just adding fuel to the fire. "one of these days, i'll catch up to you," he replied, pointing at you before walking away. you chuckle, turning around to leave the area as you felt a pair of eyes watching you. atsumu, leaning against a nearby wall, a proud smile on his face. he gave you a thumbs up, and you felt your heart flutter.

you watch him walk back to his class, and you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. you take out your phone, click on the message you've received, and a smile forms on your face.

tsumu :D <3

lunch at the rooftop tday? special treat for my smart girl :p

......

"tsumu, you're the best!" you exclaimed, as you saw atsumu holds the best-selling karaage crepe in each hand, one for him and one for you. the crepe stall was always bustling, and the queue stretched on, yet atsumu succeeded in being the early bird. he hands you a crepe and then sits down beside you. "a reward for securing first place, again," he says, taking a bite of his own. you eat yours contentedly, acknowledging atsumu's words with a nod.

"thanks, tsumu. how about you? has my nerdiness finally rubbed off on you?" you asked with a playful tone in your voice, eliciting a chuckle from atsumu. "nah, not strong enough. ya have to physically rub yerself on me," atsumu winced as you hit his arm, both of you laughing at his joke. "what a pervert," you remarked, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. as you were about to savor another bite of the delicious crepe, you noticed atsumu's gaze fixed on you. Meeting his eyes, you were puzzled by his actions. "what? can't get enough of me?" atsumu snickered at your comment, then reached out to wipe the sauce from the corner of your lips with his finger.

"yer a messy eater, ya know that?" he said, a slanted smile on his annoyingly handsome face, aware that you were blushing from his tease. "shut up," you retorted, continuing to devour your crepe as your ears grew warm. a comfortable silence settled between the two of you, enjoying the breeze and the blue sky adorned with beautiful clouds. "hey," atsumu said, breaking the silence.

"wanna go on a date tomorrow?"

.........

"i dont understand how these guys are so good at volleyball," hiroshi said. "like, how did they even keep up with all that jumping and hitting and managed to not pass out on the spot?" he continues, flipping the pages of the volleyball magazine, one of the inarizaki charming star setter, miya atsumu being on it.

you and several people in the library chuckled at his remark while organizing books on the designated shelf. "yeah, they're like monsters, but volleyball is fun. It's not just physical; you should see how intimidating they are when they put their minds to use. It's truly mind-blowing. like how a setter can control their spikers, i think thats super cool," you said, but didn't receive a respond, not even from hiroshi. shortly after, you heard hiroshi clear his throat. "hey, (l/n)," hiroshi called out. you responded with a hum.

"since when you're into volleyball?"

504 notes · View notes

tallulah477 · 1 year ago

Text

Prove To You

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, Yandere!Neteyam, ***NON-CON***, Dub-con, Predator/Prey Kink, Chasing, Obsessive/Possessive Behavior, Oral (female receiving), Edging/Orgasm Delay, P in V, Knotting, Size Difference, Fingering, Slight Degradation (use of 'whore'), Belly Bulge, Lapdance (kinda), Creampie, Alien Genitalia, Squirting, A Few Ass Slaps, Mentions of drinking and being tipsy/drunk, Brief Violence/Violent Thoughts (not towards reader), Brief mention of pregnancy, Threat of cutting off another's kuru/neural queue, Thoughts of killing/murder, One (1) non-sexual face slap (reader slaps Neteyam)

Word Count: 9.7K 💀

A/N: Hiiiii it's been a while 🤷🏻‍♀️

Summary: It was only ever supposed to be a hookup, something fun to pass the time. But to Neteyam, it was so much more than that. He's in love with you, obsessed with you - his perfect little mate. But he doesn't know why you keep running away.

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Yawne - Beloved

Tìyawn - Love

Tweng - Loincloth

Tawtute - Human

Kuru - Neural Queue

Tsaheylu - Bond, Neural Connection

Swoasey - kava bowl (constructed from seed pods, used for drinking intoxicating beverages)

Kaltxì - Hello

Pxir - Beer

Tsahìk - Spiritual Leader / Healer

Skxawng - Moron / Idiot

Iknimaya - Rite of Passage

Oel Ngati Kameie - I See You

Tanhì - Star

Muntxate - Wife, Female Spouse

Mawey - Calm

He’d only wanted to kiss you. To feel your soft lips pressed against his again.

It had been so long since he’d gotten to feel them. The mask you have to wear is always a frustrating obstacle. He begs from time to time for you to pull it off, just for a moment, so he can press his warm lips to yours, taste your tongue on his just for a few blissful seconds before the lack of air catches up with you and you have to replace it.

You always say no, always push his hand away from where he has it cupped lovingly around the side of your head, but it never stops him from asking.

You’re not wearing a mask now though. Instead, a long tube spans one side of your face, curling around your ear and stretching across your cheek before the very end of it forks off into your nostrils. At first glance he panicked, terrified of the thought of you out in the dangerous Pandora environment as a human without your only source of oxygen. It’s silly. He knows that you could have never made it to the village from the lab without some way of breathing. But he can’t help how he reacts, needing to be sure, needing to know that you’re okay.

He’s at your side in an instant, kneeling in front of your tiny frame, large hands engulfing your head as his eyes searched your face in concern. You smack his hand away, answering his concerned questions of “Ma yawne, what is going on? Are you okay?” with a short “Fine. It’s the new tech the lab guys made,”

He calms, anxiety slipping from his body now that he knows you’re still safe. His eyes flicker over your face, a small smile pulling at his lips as he takes in all your beautiful features in front of him. You’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, he’s always thought that, ever since the very first moment he met you all those years ago. But now here, without the thick layer of glass covering your face, it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“You’re so pretty, tìyawn,” He whispers, fingers unconsciously reaching out again to brush against your cheek. It’s finally accessible, bare and soft under his fingertips before the dull sting of another slap knocks his hand away.

You don’t like public displays of affection.

Or, at least, now you don’t.

You used to not mind it. Back before that night in front of the fire, you would touch him all the time - sweet and gentle touches when you were talking, so tactile in your interactions with him. A quick squeeze to his knee whenever he was able to make you laugh, friendly half hugs as greetings that would make his heart pound in his chest every single time, your intoxicating scent filling his lungs and suffocating him in the best way.

He’d keep his nose buried in your neck, breathing you in until you were all he could smell or think about for the rest of eternity if he could.

He used to carry you places when you would tag along on fun adventures with him and his siblings. Excitement coursed through him every time you agreed to join them, tail swishing eagerly behind him because he knew that eventually you would get tired from walking and allow him to carry you on his back. You like to talk, prattling on about whatever was going on at the lab or a fun new piece of tech that Norm and the others were working on. Sometimes you’d talk about the current drama - someone said you talked too much, were too abrasive, but that you thought that they personally needed to grow a backbone. He’d listen to whatever you had to say - soaking up your voice like the most melodic song and committing every detail you provide him to memory.

But your voice has a physical response on him. But the horrified looks his siblings would send him when they would see the tent in his tewng from where his hard cock had slipped out of its sheath was always well worth the embarrassment. The feeling of your soft skin on his - arms wrapping around his neck for balance, his hands completely engulfing your warm thighs from where they wrapped tightly around his torso as far as they could. He’s spent many nights imagining them wrapped around his waist from the front instead.

You didn’t mind public displays of affection when you drank an entire swoasey of pxir and danced in front of him by the fire. The celebration had wound down, the clan members satisfied in celebrating the induction of The People who had passed their Iknimaya just a few hours ago. Only a few younger adults who seemed to have the same idea as you remained now, each couple splintering off to different parts of the campground to get their much needed privacy. Even Lo’ak has moved away, enamored by the pretty girl sitting on his lap, uncaring about the way his hands slide down to cup her ass and pull her closer.

The fading glow of yellows and oranges look amazing against your skin, the steady crackle of the fire like a song all on its own as your hips move to the music only your own head and nature provides. Neteyam’s eyes are wide, excitement coursing through his veins as he watches your hips sway. You sway too, your body a bit unsteady from the drink still in your hand, but mostly it's your hips - the sensual swish back and forth, beads from your tewng (a gift from Kiri he suspects) clank together against each other and your thighs. Your pretty thighs, so soft he wants to wrap his entire hand around them, spread them open for him and see you like he’s always dreamed of. You’d be so wet, so sticky and drenched for him that he’d be able to just slide right in. You were made for him. Made to take him. He’d fit between your thighs so perfectly despite your size difference, he knows he would.

His breath catches in his throat when you dance closer, small body seductive in the way it calls to him with your movements. You toss the swoasey to the side, the little liquid that was left pouring out and soaking into the ground beside you. Your hands find their way to his bent knees, heat filled eyes never leaving his as you push his legs apart so you can stand between them, searing him with their intensity even from behind the glass of your mask.

Your hands slide up his legs, tiny fingers creeping up the insides of his thighs and he can’t help the audible gulp that escapes him when he feels his cock nudge against his already wet slit, threatening to poke out at any moment.

Great Mother, you’re so gorgeous. The most beautiful woman Eywa has ever created. You must have been created by her - no other god or goddess or being could ever have made anything more perfect and irresistible than Eywa herself.

Surely, the Great Mother has made you for him. Just for him.

“Why so nervous, Teyam?” You giggle, leaning up as far as you can towards his face while still keeping your teasing hands on his thighs, dangerously close to the now bulging fabric. “Tawtute got your tongue?”

“I–um–” He chokes out. He can’t breath, can’t breath with you so fucking close to him. He wants you so badly, wants to touch you so badly he feels like he might die if he doesn’t.

And then you're turning in the cage of his open thighs, back pressing against his front as you grab his shaking hand. There’s a satisfied smirk on your face as you drag his arm around you, the large appendage spanning your entire chest as he sprawls his fingers out across your front. His fingertips automatically curl around the curve of your breast while his palm caresses the other through your beaded top, his body subconsciously reacting to your own guidance.

His heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might explode in his chest, breathing labored as his hard cock digs into your back.

“You can touch me,” You whisper, but his ears flick at your words and catch them loud and clear. “Want you to play with me.”

“Ha-fuck,” He groans, mouth falling open in silent awe as your top shifts underneath his hand and his finger grazes your hard nipple. Without thinking his hand squeezes your chest, gently but firm enough for you to gasp as he greedily gropes both breasts at once.

He can smell you now, the mind dizzying scent of your arousal filling the air around you both as you gasp and giggle excitedly at his sudden action, both of your tiny hands reaching up to grip at his big one as you press him tighter against you.

“Come on, Teyam,” You moan, moan, and he’s not even touching you yet. You turn your head to look at him, craning your neck as you stare up at him with wide, lust filled eyes. “Have some fun with me.”

That night he spent with you under the hypnotic glow of the fire will be forever burned into his mind. Every detail, every moan, every sigh, every praise and whine and plea spilling from your lips as he made love to you for the very first time is kept under the sacred lock and key of his heart - a memory he saved with Eywa back at the Spirit Tree the morning after so that he would never have the possibility of forgetting.

The memory of your gasp as he pushed you down, beads flying across the mossy ground as he tore your clothes off like an animal and how the roughness of it all made your arousal even stronger. His eyes greedy as they took in their fill of your beautiful body splayed out in front of him like a prize before he covered you with his own. Your fingers teased along his bullet wound scar, tracing the raised line with careful fingers, and he thinks that maybe your loving touch will be enough to fully heal it.

The place between your thighs feels like home, your tiny pussy swallowing him up and holding him close like the most perfect combination of love and safety. Your voice ringing in his ears, sweet and sensual as you whimper and moan telling him faster, Teyam, fuck me harder, oh god, and he whines in return, cock throbbing and embarrassingly close to bursting so fast already, and sending up thanks and prayers to the Great Mother for granting him this amazing moment with you.

It’s the blending of two hearts, two souls made for each other and coming together as one in a bond so powerful that no one can ever break it. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have a kuru, Neteyam can feel you in himself anyway - can feel you wrapping your tiny fingers around his brain and heart and very being, solidifying your bond together without the need for tsaheylu.

And when you pull your mask off, holding your breath as the hiss of air escapes from the broken seal around your face - he can’t breathe either. The feel of your lips on his, soft and demanding as you kiss him passionately as he fucks you on the forest floor, makes him see stars.

He’s not sure where the change of behavior came from. One day you were affectionate, touchy and giving with your love, surrounding him with your scent and embrace, pussy wrapped around his cock in a hug so tight he thought you might never let go. He wouldn’t mind that, being buried in your heat forever, warm and loved until the day he dies. But the next morning the walls came up, the attitude started, and when he had gone to greet you with a blinding smile and an adoring ‘kaltxì, yawne,’ on his lips as he bent to kiss your cheek, you pulled back and pressed a firm hand against his belly to push him away.

He thought that your coldness was nerves, just a reaction a human might have to the new soul bond you’ve experienced. Humans don’t mate for life like the Na’vi do, but you’re special, you’re his, and Eywa has blessed your union and made it so even though it should not be possible. Maybe you just don’t know how to handle it. It’s okay, he can be the patient and supportive mate you need.

But the coldness and hostility doesn’t stop, the days go by and the passage of time doesn’t make you calm down. You don’t throw your arms around him like he wants you to, don’t say those three words he longs to hear fall from your lips said with all the love and trust that you have in your little tawtute body.

Instead, there’s almost anger, a sudden indifference that he can’t seem to place. Had he done something wrong? He doesn’t think so. So, he tries to do the best he can, be the best mate he can be for you during your obvious time of struggle. He’s always there for you, will always be there for you, providing support and bringing you fresh meat, dicing up your favorite fruits and making you pretty jewelry that he knows will look so beautiful on you if you ever just wear it.

You don’t. You toss the jewelry to the side like it's nothing, you let the food rot exactly where he’s left it.

You’re not a Na’vi, you don’t understand the implication of your crassness towards his gifts. You don’t see how your refusals break his heart. It’s okay - you’ll learn. Humans are . . . unusual creatures. It will just take a bit more time for you to warm up to the ways of The People.

But his optimism stings with each slight, each indifference you show towards him. Great Mother, you’re so mean to him. Always trying to run from him when he grabs at you, ripping your hand away from his whenever he tries to hold it. You’ve been hiding from him, your trips into the village getting less and less frequent and you don’t let him in when he tries to come to the lab to visit you.

“You don’t even like being here,” You say when he tries. And you’re right. The stuffiness of the lab makes him tense, and it feels like he can sometimes feel the energy from the machines pressing up against his body. But when he’s with you he doesn’t care. You’re the only thing that matters to him, and when he’s with you, it’s like everything else just falls away.

The sting from your smack is still on his hand, but he shakes it off as he reaches out to caress your arm instead. “Ma yawne, are you hungry? You should come to my hut. I’ll cook you a fi–”

“No,” You interrupt, shrugging him off of your arm. “I’m not hungry.”

“Oh,” He breathes, disappointment burrowing in his chest but he tries not to let it show even as his fingers reach out to graze against your wrist. “Well then maybe we can go on a walk? There’s a lake not too far from here that I’ve been wanting to show you. It’s beautiful.” Beautiful like you. “I know you’ll love it.”

“No, Neteyam,” You say again, pulling your wrist from his wandering fingers and crossing your arms across your chest. “I’m busy.”

“What are you doing? Maybe I could–”

“No,”

The clipped word rings in his ears. No, no, no, always no. He’s your mate, you shouldn’t have to tell him no. Where you go, he goes. Where he goes, you go. Together. Simple as that. And yet it’s still always no, no, no. You’re turning away from him without another word, walking away with strides he thinks are way too quick for a human, and he can’t help but wonder where you’re heading to in such a rush.

“Okay,” He calls out, desperate for the conversation not to be over but knowing it will just upset you if he follows you. “I’ll come see you later, tìyawn. I swear it!”

You don’t even look back.

He hasn’t seen you in nearly a week and his patience is running thin.

Your absence is killing him.

Where are you? Why won’t you see him? He knows you have to be suffering too without him. Mated pairs aren’t meant to be without each other for so long and he feels like he’s been apart from you for an eternity.

You stopped coming to the village. He’s been looking, desperately hoping that he’ll see you among the multitude of faces he sees every day. He wants to hear your voice so badly, wants to pull you into his arms and hold you there, safe and loved, while the warmth of your skin soaks into his.

He wants to push you down again, cover you with his body as he presses you into his sleeping mat - your sleeping mat. Both of yours, together, the way it should be as he plows into your swollen cunt. His hut should be covered in your scent by now, not an inch of it left without your mark on it.

It’s not, and his understanding for your trouble adjusting to the bond is quickly dissipating.

He’s tried to come see you at the lab multiple times. A lot. Every day. The lab guys turn him away.

She’s busy. She’s sleeping. She’s too tired. She’s not feeling too well.

If you're not feeling well, he should be in there to heal you. Give you comfort when you're at your weakest and motivation to get better. So he can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. If you’re tired, let him in so he can wrap his arms around you. His chest is sure to be a better pillow for you than any other one you would be laying on. He would be warm, chest moving with just the perfect amount of rise and fall to lull you into a restful sleep. Your beauty sleep - not that you need it. And if you’re busy . . . what’s the harm in him just being around you? He won’t bother you, but any time just existing in the same space as you is like a dream come true.

He tries to be nice, tries to be a good person - these are his father’s friends, allies of the Omatikaya - and he’s never been one to act impulsively. But they are keeping you from him. You are his. His mate.

By the looks on their faces, they know how lucky they are that they got away with only some vicious snarls and a pushed over lab desk. Keeping away someone’s mate should be punishable by death.

At least, that’s how Neteyam feels right about now.

He doesn’t like being angry, hates the disgusting feeling that he feels clawing relentlessly at his chest. But he’s frustrated and heartbroken at your self inflicted absence and the warriors he’s training are his unfortunate victims. He pushes them hard, way harder than he probably should. Two of them have already had to go see the Tsahìk for their injuries and most of them look just about ready to drop from exertion. The anger he lets out on them doesn’t seem to quell any of the feelings still boiling inside him.

But then he sees you and it’s like time stops. The anger and frustration flee his body in a rush of relief. You’re here.

You’re hiding behind a tree just along the edge of the clearing. Why are you hiding? Maybe you’re trying to surprise him, stay out of sight until he’s done training so as to not distract him with your beauty. You would have. You’ve told him plenty of times that he has a staring problem. But he can’t help it. You’re just so breathtaking that he can’t help but want to stare at you all the time. You’re what he imagines Eywa incarnate to look like - a beauty so alluring and otherworldly that he just can’t bear to tear his eyes away.

The training session is just about done. He releases a majority of the warriors for the day and there’s only a few stragglers that need a few minutes of one-on-one training before he can send them on their way too. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying to them, letting muscle memory and repetition help him drag these last few minutes along as quickly as possible before he’s able to run over to you. He’s already decided that he’s going to take you out tonight. A date night, just like his father and mother have. It’s a time where you both can get away from the hustle and bustle of village and lab life and just be with each other. You clearly need it and he’s so desperate to spend time with you that he’s just about ready to kidnap you from your duties just so he can get a moment of peace just to stare at your gorgeous, unmasked face more.

Maybe do some other stuff too. Hopefully.

His heart hasn’t been the only needy thing of his without you.

The last warrior he’s with is really pushing his luck. How hard is it to switch a knife from a bladed upward position to a downward facing position with just one hand? It’s a simple wrist movement to perfect a move that might save your life one day and this skxawng keeps. dropping. the. knife. Neteyam’s seemingly endless patience is gone. He dismisses the warrior, words much too harsh to be considered professional but he doesn’t care. His mate is waiting for him and he doesn’t want to waste any more time.

He turns back to head to where you are, a giddy smile pulling at his lips, mood immediately flipping at the thought of finally seeing you, talking to you, holding you.

Except when he does it’s like he’s being doused with freezing water.

Another one of his warrior trainees, Oäpon, is standing in front of you and Neteyam can see how he’s purposefully bulging his muscles a little more to make them seem bigger - an action male Na’vi do when trying to attract a mate. Neteyam wants to rip those muscles out of his worthless body. He should be disgusted with himself with how fast his hand twitches towards the knife on his hip, ready to give no thoughts and just act on his emotions. He’s not impulsive, he’s not. But for once in his life he feels like he might actually kill one of his own clan members.

Would the Great Mother desert him if he did?

But you catch his attention again, the movement of your small step closer to the other man dragging his furious gaze back to you. Your gorgeous eyes aren’t on Neteyam like they should be, but instead on Oäpon in return. You’re smiling at him, grinning so wide that surely it's fake because you’ve never smiled at him like that before. Oäpon lifts his hand and there’s a deep purple flower between his fingers. The flower finds its way behind your ear and all Neteyam sees is red.

He’s across the clearing in a second, roaring snarls ripping from his chest as he tears the flower from behind your ear. He can hear Oäpon start to talk, to question what the fuck he’s doing, but the other man’s words are cut off with a pained gasp as he’s kicked to the ground and then he’s shock silent, fear written all over his face as he stares in horror at his kuru and the knife held in Neteyam’s inescapable grip.

“Don’t! Please, don’t,” Oäpon begs, voice shaking as he struggles to force the words out. “Great Mother, help! Please, don’t!”

“Neteyam, stop!” You yell, tiny fists beating at Netayam’s back, but he barely even feels them.

“She is mine!” Neteyam growls. “Mine. My mate. You do not touch her!”

“I didn’t know,” Oäpon whimpers. “I didn’t know. Please! I swear!”

He wants to do it, wants to slice through the braid so badly. He doesn’t deserve to have it. Kurus are sacred, the ability to connect to Eywa and her creatures is sacred. Attempting to defile the bond between a mated pair is nearly unheard of. Your screams for him to stop are just making the desire worse. You’re protecting him?! Protecting the thing that was trying to . . . no. No, no, no. He deserves to have it cut off, deserves to die.

Oäpon should kiss his feet in thanks for the mercy Neteyam shows by releasing him.

“I don’t ever want to see you near her again,” Neteyam shouts. Oäpon doesn’t respond, too busy scrambling away and darting across the clearing, but Neteyam knows he’s heard him.

“You’re a monster!” You scream, another fist coming down to hit at his back. “How could you do that to him?”

Your hits don’t stop and even through his rage he’s trying to be gentle with you. He catches your flying fists in one of his hands, holding them tight as he crouches in front of you trying to get on your level.

“Ma yawne, did he hurt you?”

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him in disbelief. “Did he hurt me? Are you kidding me?"

Neteyam’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“You fucking–” You screech, Neteyam’s ears pinning against his skull from the high pitched, angry sound. “You–you–I–ARGH!”

You're so frustrated, so upset you can’t even speak properly. Maybe you are hurt - Neteyam’s eyes scan your body for injury, eyes lingering on the area around your ear where the flower had been. The flower now lays forgotten at your feet, crushed and ruined from his angry grip, and Neteyam can’t find any source of injury that might be causing your upset.

“You don’t have to worry,” Neteyam says, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “He won’t bother you anymore, I swear it.”

You jerk away from his touch. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t understand what you mean. Nothing is wrong?”

“No,” You shake your head, wrists still trying to twist out of his grip. “No, there’s something wrong with you. Something is seriously wrong with you,”

“You are upset, tìyawn. Tell me what I can–”

“Don’t call me that!” You scream, nose scrunching with the effort. “Stop calling me that!”

“Oh,” Neteyam’s swishing tail droops in disappointment. “I’m sorry, y/n. I didn’t know you didn’t like the name. I only meant to use it to show my love for you as my mate but I can–”

“We aren’t mates, Neteyam!” The words stab like a knife through his heart and his hand loosens around your wrists in shock enough for you to pull them out of his grasp. “We fucked once. A hookup, Neteyam. Sex, that’s it.”

“No,” He whispers.

Why are you saying this? How could you say this? He was there! He remembers that night more clearly than any other day of his life. You love him. He feels it, feels it with every fiber of his being. You let him into your body, wrapped him tight inside you like a promise that you would never let him go - like he would never have to be alone ever again. You caressed his bullet scar, and he remembers the feel of your gentle fingers silently mourning for it and for all he’s had to suffer. He remembers thinking that being there with you in that moment was worth every other hardship he has to endure. He can take on anything with you at his side.

“No,” He says again, disbelief coloring his tone. “How can you say that? We are mates! You’re mine!”

“No, we aren’t,”

“We are! I love you, y/n! Oel ngati kam–”

“We are not mated, Neteyam! We fucked. Mindless, hot, means-to-an-end-to-get-off sex. That’s it! Get that through your thick skull,”

He’s watching you as if in slow motion. You turn, stomping away from him as you start to head back into the forest and his brain feels like it’s going a million miles an hour. You’re mates. You are. You have to be - there’s no other way to explain the way he feels about you. The love and utter devotion he has for you. The need to be near you always - looking in your eyes, touching your skin, hearing your voice and the way you’ve always sounded so sweet saying his name. Eywa has blessed your union and he doesn't understand why you don’t feel the same way. Can’t you feel the same inescapable pull that he does? How your soul is tied to his in a way that surpasses even that of tsaheylu?

He reaches out to grab you before you get too far, fingers wrapping around your upper arm. Your own arm flies out around you and the sharp sound echoes through the forest and his sensitive ears before the pain registers on his cheek.

He’s never seen your eyes so wide before, crazed and panicked as you stare back into his equally shocked amber ones. Your hand is shaking, still raised in the follow through of the slap. The force of your smack is still heating up his cheek, and if he can feel it as much as he is now, he’s sure your hand is probably tingling.

Any other time he would check you for injuries. You’re so much more fragile than him - you could really hurt yourself if you’re not careful. But you just hit him. Your mate. The man that loves you more than anything. He’s frozen, body cold and not knowing how to react.

Don’t call me that.

Anger floods through him again. This was Oäpon’s fault. He tricked you, seduced you somehow - out from right under Neteyam’s nose. He should have killed him.

We are not mated.

You rip your arm out of his grip, wide eyes locked on him as he straightens his body, unfurling out of his crouched position as he rises to his full height. The shadow his body creates over you sends something primal through him. The darkened image of him completely overtaking your tiny figure makes him hungry. Possessive.

Just sex, Neteyam. That’s it.

He won’t let that worthless skxawng corrupt you anymore. You’re the love of his life, his tanhì. You’re just confused. You’re not thinking clearly.

You don’t mean it.

He feels like if he concentrates hard enough, he can hear the sound of your heart racing. Or maybe it's his own, the frantic thump thump thump thump thump of his heart pumping rushing blood into his ears and making him feel like there’s static in his brain.

When you turn to run, he’s not even shocked. His pupils dilate until there’s barely any color left, predatory gaze marked onto your back as you sprint into the dense Pandoran forest. Everything is so clear to him now. You’re testing him, wanting to see how loyal he is and how far he’ll go to keep you. You’re a beautiful woman, of course you’d have options. But you chose him for a reason, and now you want him to chase you - to prove himself a strong and worthy mate.

You want to play hard to get? Fine. He’ll play.

He’s a natural hunter, an apex predator - and you, tiny human, have just become his prey.

It might be fun to hunt you again - sometime in the future when this is all behind you. He’d be sure to make it as fair for you as possible: give you a head start, maybe allow you to rub some mud on your skin to hide your scent just to drag out the game a little longer, give you ample time and resources to find a good hiding spot where you can sit and try to listen with your not that great human hearing for any sign that he’s creeping up on your position. He’d wrap his arms around your waist when he inevitably finds you, smug grin tugging at his lips when your giggled shrieks pierce his eardrums as he pulls you from your oh so clever hiding spot. And then, he’d claim his prize, tearing your clothes from your body right there wherever he found you and fucking you until your giggly shrieking turns into blissful moaning.

This isn’t fun. It’s not a game. And your headstart is dwindling rapidly. You’re racing through the forest, running as fast as your feet will carry you. He can hear your heavy breaths, the sound of the ground crunching under your clumsy feet. He can smell you, the scent you’re leaving behind in your rush is a direct trail back to you for him to follow.

He doesn’t need it. He never lost sight of you.

One of his strides equal close to four of yours, and he covers ground quickly as he closes in on you. He catches you only a little further into the forest than where the chase started and you scream as he tackles you to the ground, the force of his momentum completely knocking you both off your feet. He doesn’t let you touch the ground on the fall, twisting his body enough to take the brunt of the impact. The action still leaves you breathless, dazed for a moment before seeming to come back to yourself and struggling to get off from on top of him.

His hold around your waist is secure and he uses the anchor he has around your waist to throw you on to the ground beside him before climbing on top of you and pinning both of your hands above your head with one of his.

“Get off me!” You scream, body struggling underneath him, hands pulling in his unrelenting grip as you try to get free, but you can barely move under his weight. “Get off me, Neteyam! Get off, get off, get o–”

His free hand latches around your throat, your words dying on your tongue as his fingers dig into the sides of your neck.

“Quiet!” He hisses, baring his fangs. “Be quiet!”

The aggressive display makes a small whimper rip from your throat and he can feel the vibrations tickle under his palm. You’re not quiet though, you never stay quiet - ever the talker that you are. You’d talk his ear off if you could. The only time you’ve ever stayed quiet is when you avoided him, and he refuses to let that happen again.

“Neteyam, please,” You whisper, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re scaring me. Let’s just relax and talk about thi–”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” He growls. “You’ve said enough already, don’t you think?”

He releases your hands, grip on your throat loosening and moving down slightly until it's just a singular hand pressed against your chest to keep you pinned. Your hands immediately latch onto the large hand, one of your own clutching the back while the other curls around one of his long fingers. He feels how you pull at it, trying to get it off of you - and he knows how much harder you could be trying right now if you wanted to.

He lowers his face to yours, inches away so that his breath fans across your skin as he speaks. “You like to talk, but you don’t like words. You’ve made that clear. My words mean nothing to you.” He can feel how your quick breathing puffs against his face too, the warm air caressing his cheeks. “You need actions - a visual representation of my devotion to you. I see that now.”

In a flash, his hands are balling into her t-shirt, pulling roughly in either direction and the thin material gives easily under the pressure. You gasp as he rips your shirt down the middle, the torn fabric falling on either side of your body as he does the same with your bra with a quick snap of his wrist.

“What are you doing?!” You shout, but you can’t fool him now. He’s grown tired of your games and your body can’t lie to him.

“Don’t worry, yawne. I’ll give you what you need,”

The sound of ripping material echoes through the otherwise peaceful forest. Your shorts require just a bit more force to tear, but it’s barely a percentage of his full strength so the fabric comes apart at the seams easily leaving the ruined bottoms still around your waist and thighs, but a large opening right at your center. A rumble of satisfaction builds in his chest when he smells you, the first scent of your arousal permeating the air around you. You gasp when he rips your panties too, leaving nothing left of the light blue material but the thin elastic around your limbs and hips.

His mouth waters at the sight of your pretty pussy, bare and tempting and already getting so wet for him.

“Fuck,” You whimper, arms splayed out beside you, fingers gripping into the moss covered ground.

“You like it when I’m rough, huh?” Neteyam teases. “When I’m demanding and just take what I want from you?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the way he can see your pussy’s responding clench is damning to your denial.

“I remember now,” Neteyam’s hand slides down your thigh and caresses your calf, long fingers wrapping around your leg as he presses a nipping kiss to your ankle just above your sock. “You loved how I shoved you down on the ground that night. It made you gush in your pretty little tewng, didn’t it?”

“S-shut up,”

“Hm, my muntxate likes being handled roughly, doesn’t she?”

Your response is a shocked squeal when he snatches your hips, hauling you up off the forest floor, the quick snapping of moss ripping from the ground as you’re abruptly pulled upwards. Your entire world is turned upside down as Neteyam dangles you like prey in front of him. He throws your legs over his shoulders and wraps a secure arm around your stomach to hold your lower back to his chest. The other hand holds onto your thigh to make sure to keep you spread before him as if you had any chance to wiggle away.

A choked sob rips from your throat as your hands reach for the ground, blood rushing to your head as your fingers stretch as far as they can trying to get leverage and hold yourself up. Your fingertips only just barely graze the soft green.

Neteyam groans as he enjoys the sight right in front of his face. You’re spread open for him, pussy perfectly framed by the destroyed fabric - dripping and glistening in want against the dimming sunlight despite yourself. He can see how you subconsciously contract and clench it, hole practically begging him to fill it with his tongue. He wants to bury his face in it, suffocate on your smell and taste until it’s all he can think about.

So he does.

He digs his face between your legs, tongue lapping at your folds like a man starved. He is. He didn’t get to do this your first time. It was too fast, too desperate. He couldn’t control himself with you. Everything about you calls to him like a siren, luring him in with your beauty and light. You dragged him down on top of you that night. You were already open, you told him - had fucked yourself with that fake cock he had found hidden in your drawers during an impromptu hangout in your bedroom at the lab. You still felt suffocatingly tight when he pushed in, but he had been grateful that he didn’t have to wait.

He had waited so long for the chance to be inside you that he felt like if he had waited another second without you he would have exploded.

Your back arches as he licks up your slit, moaning loudly as his textured tongue slides across your clit.

“Oh my god,” You gasp out, hands forgoing reaching for the ground and finding purchase on his thighs instead. “Neteyam, f-fuck,”

He hums in response, his tongue targeting the sensitive bundle of nerves, sliding and flicking relentlessly against the small bud as your moans and gasps get louder and louder. Your sounds are driving him crazy, the taste of you on his tongue setting every one of his nerves on fire. His cock is already hard, already working its way past his wet slit and tenting in his tewng. You taste so good, so perfect for him. He wonders what it feels like for you, how good it must feel for you to be writhing in his grip now, so vocal for him in your pleasure that your voice is already starting to sound a bit raspy from use. He bets his tongue feels better than any other man you’ve ever tried, the texture of it foreign and unique and unlike anything else you’ve ever had before.

It will be the same way for him too, he’s sure. He’s dreamed about it, fantasized and jerked off to the thought of your tongue, soft and silky, running up and down his cock. You’d torture him with it, be teasing and delicate in your licks, alternating between those featherlight, barely there teases against his lavender tip and firmer strokes down the base of his cock.

Your nails are digging into the meat of his thighs as he wraps his lips around your clit, panting breaths telling him yes, right there, Teyam, fuck, fuck, yes as your hips try to hump against his face. You’re right there, right on the edge, ready to fall over it with just a little bit more.

But he stops, reveling in your frustrated groan as he pulls his mouth away from your soaked core. His intense golden eyes meet yours when your head forces its way up, raspy voice whining a desperate ‘why’ as you feel your orgasm slipping away from you.

“Tell me you’re mine,” He demands. He needs to hear you say it.

“Teyam…”

He can’t bear to hear you deny him again. Can’t handle hearing you say the words that make him feel like his heart has been dunked in acid.

His lips latch onto your clit again, sucking harshly at the tiny bud and your words cut off with a gasp. He works you back up, your head falling back as he nips at your clit with his sharp teeth before licking down your slit to circle your entrance. You’re so tight, so so so tight around his tongue as he pushes it in. You clench around the wet muscle and then somehow clench even tighter when the hand gripping your thigh reaches over to rub firm circles on your clit.

“Teyam, oh god, Neteyam, please!” You beg, thighs squeezing his head as they try to force themselves closed. “I’m gonna cum. Please,”

You wail as he pulls his mouth away again, your hole clenching around nothing as your orgasm dissipates again.

“Say it,” He feels your whole body shiver as his words breathe hot air on your sensitive cunt. “You’re mine. Say it, y/n,”

You sob, frustration evident in every sound and twitch your body makes. You’re trying to lift your head again, looking up at him from your spot dangling below him like a puppet, and he wonders if all the blood rushing to your head from being upside down for so long is getting to you.

“Say it,” He repeats and then digs back in, the flat of his tongue roughly swiping over your clit before latching onto it again.

Your legs kick as he works you up again, overstimulated pussy throbbing as he plays you like an instrument he’s known for years. His cock is throbbing too, desperate to be released from the confines of his tewng and shown some attention. He wants so badly to push inside your soaking hole and feel how it’ll grip his cock within its slick walls.

“Neteyam, please!” You cry, and he knows you’re so close, right there again as he hurdles you back towards that just out of reach edge. He doesn’t stop the suction of his mouth. You’ll say it, he knows you will. You’ll say it because if you don’t, you won’t get to cum. He’ll keep you here, upside down in his unrelenting hold until you pass out from exhaustion before he’s going to let you go without saying it.

You’re a stubborn brat. He can see as he looks down your hanging body that you’re biting your lip. You want to say it - you’re just being stubborn. He sucks harder on the swollen bud, free hand smacking your hip and your asscheek just hard enough to make you cry and gush further on his tongue, the remaining remnants of your clothes doing very little to muffle the sting.

“Okay!” You yell. “Okay, okay, Neteyam! I’ll say it! I’m yours! Please, please let me cum!”

The words make Neteyam’s chest tighten. Finally. Finally, you’ve admitted it, and the excitement from the admission urges him to lick you faster. He’s sloppy and greedy as he eats you out, overeager and face wet to the point of dripping as he devours you for all you have. You cum on his tongue with a choked scream, hands reaching up to grab desperately at his arm encircling your waist, nails digging into the cerulean flesh as your back arches and your thighs clench tightly around his head.

He swallows everything you offer him, lapping up your juices like his favorite most treasured treat, before placing a protective hand on your back to steady you as he lowers you back down to safety.

“Mawey, yawne,” Neteyam coos, gently brushing away a few rogue pieces of moss stuck to your sweaty forehead. You’re still panting, exhaustion creeping over you as your eyes glaze over and threaten to close. The oxygen tube had unhooked from around your ear at some point during your experience upside down. Neteyam guides it back around your ear with careful fingers. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. Keep being a good girl while I fuck you, yes?”

Your eyes widen at the mention of fucking, shaking your head slightly even as the full bodied shivers of the orgasm’s aftershocks continue to wrack your body. “N-no, Teyam. C-can’t take i-it.”

Neteyam smiles, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss against your lips. The feel of your lips on his is almost enough to make him cum. He’s so worked up already, so high off the taste of your cunt on his tongue that all it takes is the loving press of your lips on his and he’s a second away from exploding in his tewng and ruining the fun.

“Yes, you can,” He says against your lips, his sharp teeth digging into your plush bottom lip just to hear you whine.

Last time he fucked you, he took you from the front. It was love making, a bonding of two souls coming together as one - a spiritual experience filled with panting breaths, eye contact, and the passionate coupling that comes with mating with the one your heart belongs to.

You don’t deserve that right now, not with the way you’ve hurt him - made him work for the love that should have been given freely. The things you said can’t just be forgotten. You need him to prove his worthiness to you? Prove his loyalty? Then fine, he’ll do that by giving you exactly what you deserve.

You yelp when he flips you over on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips and hauling them up so your ass is in the air and on display for him. The remaining fabric of your shorts still cover nearly half of your ass, but the little coverage does nothing to diminish the amazing view. You try to push yourself up with your arms, but Neteyam is quick to shove you back down with a hand on the back of your neck.

“No, no, tìyawn,” He says, running a large hand over your exposed ass, his fingers teasing along the creamy slit of your pussy. “You said you’re mine, so let me see what’s mine.”

His teasing fingers find your hole and his teeth dig into his lower lip when he sees your thigh start trembling as he circles your entrance with the pad of his finger. You like it rough, he has to remind himself. You’re a human, so delicate compared to him that he naturally wants to be gentle with you. But that got him nowhere, it got him ignored. You respond to roughness, passion, him taking charge - so he doesn’t give you any warning before he’s plunging two long fingers inside you all the way to the knuckle.

You scream, slick walls squeezing around his fingers, your own hands once again ripping at the moss below you. The scream is agonized, oversensitive and pained from your earlier edging and orgasm. Your thighs are shaking, desperate sobs erupting from your throat. But the way you’re pushing back against him, rocking back against his invading fingers trying to get them deeper inside you tell him everything he needs to know.

“Look at you,” He coos. His fingers start up a steady rhythm, thrusting inside you with purpose as he stretches you open. “Such a little whore for me, aren’t you?”

Your moans are muffled against the ground, cheek pressed firmly against the moss from his hand pinning you down by his neck. You ignore his question, too lost in trying to push back against his hand and make him fuck you faster - so he rips his fingers from your gripping cunt, drops of your wetness flying from the force of his retreat, and his large hand lands harshly on your backside.

You howl at the smack, the sound of the slap against direct skin this time cracks through the forest like a gunshot.

“I asked if you’re my whore,” Neteyam repeats. It’s not as romantic as ‘I’m yours’, but still just as important.

“Yes, Teyam,” You whine. “I’m your whore.”

“Just for me, right? Only my whore,” Silence again, but your hips are still wiggling and searching for his fingers, so he rewards your silence with another sharp smack. “Say it, yawne,”

“Fuck!” You cry, ass feeling like it's on fire even as more of your slick drips down your thighs. “Yes, yes! Only for you, Teyam. Only for you,”

“Good girl,” Neteyam purrs, and you’re rewarded this time with his fingers sliding back inside your aching pussy.

He stretches you out on those two fingers, alternating between scissoring them inside you and curling them to rub at that special spongy spot that makes you squeal and see stars. He contemplates adding a third, but decides that he wants to finish stretching you out on his cock instead.

This time when you cum, it's less of a scream and more of a deep guttural groan that comes from deep inside you. It’s wetter than he expects it to be when you squeeze around his fingers, and the sight of your slick dripping from your mound onto the forest floor beneath you makes him feel absolutely feral.

He lets go of the back of your neck and pulls his fingers from your abused cunt. The wet fingers work frantically at the knots on his tewng and he feels like he can’t get the fucking thing off fast enough. When the knots come undone and the tan material flutters to the ground, he breathes a sigh of relief, thick needy cock springing from its confines to slap against his belly.

When he focuses back on you, your exhausted body is already trying to curl in a ball, eyes threatening to close as sleep calls to you. No, Neteyam thinks. He’s not done with you yet.

He flips you back on your stomach, pulling your hips back up high so they’re flush with his. You both groan as he rubs his hard cock between your folds, the tip nudging at your swollen clit. Fuck, you feel so good, pussy feeling like silk against his aching length. His eyes are locked onto where he’s lining his head with your entrance, watching in awe as he nudges himself forward, your greedy hole welcoming him in like you’ve been doing this forever. He can’t control his sounds, grunts and moans of pleasure echoing loudly through the trees as he sinks himself inside your slick walls. You’re so tight, even with the amount he’s stretched you out already you’re still so tight. But you stretch around him like you were made for him, made to take his cock into your depths - like your insides already know the exact shape of him and welcome him back into their warm embrace.

You whimper as he fills you up, back arching and hands clawing at the ground like you’re both trying to get away from him and closer to him at the same time.

“I fucked you so good, didn’t I?” He gunts, pulling halfway out of your gripping pussy before slamming back in, relishing in the tortured moan it pulls from you. “That night by the fire. Made you cum so many times, over and over again until you were so cock drunk you couldn’t speak.”

He pulls out again, just a little further this time before thrusting back in. He does it again, and again, the rhythm hard and unforgiving and he pulls your hips closer to his. In the back of his mind he fears that he’s being too mean, too rough, but your gasping hiccups and blissed out sighs contain any worry. This is as much for him as it is for you anyway. He’s allowed to be selfish.

“You’re always so talkative,” He pants. “Where’s that pretty voice now, huh? You were so talkative that night, just endless pleas of my name falling from your gorgeous lips. Like music to my ears. I wanna hear it again. Please, yawne?”

“Mmh, please,” You whine. “Please, Teyam,”

“Please what?”

“Faster,” You beg. “Fuck me faster,”

Who is he to deny such a sweet and pretty thing?

He leans forward, body curling over yours to cover you completely, one of his hands grabbing yours and linking your fingers together as he presses them both against the ground. His other hand is still on your hip, using it as leverage as he fucks your puffy pussy faster, the tip of his cock barreling against your cervix with each snap of his hips.

He can feel the knot on the base of his cock swelling, the large ball of tissue nudging at your entrance with each thrust. The instinct driven part of him urges him to push harder against you, to force the knot against your tight hole to see if it will fit.

He didn’t knot you that night, not wanting to risk hurting you or getting you pregnant so fast with such a new relationship. He came inside you with his fist wrapped tightly around his knot instead. Na’vi bonds are forever. Human bonds . . . now he’s not so sure. He’s not willing to risk it anymore. He’s going to bond with you in every way he knows how.

When he feels his orgasm creep up his spine, he lets instinct take over. His grip on your hip tightens, thrusts halting as he presses the enlarged ball against your soaked entrance.

You gasp, whimpering as his knot stretches you more. “Oh god, wait, wait,”

But it's too late. With another determined shove, the knot pops inside you and he has you trapped, locked on his cock until time decides to free you.

“Neteyam, i-it’s too b-big,” You whine, shock evident in your voice. “Hmh, so full,”

Neteyam plants soothing kisses on the back of your head and neck, the hand on your hip smoothing around your belly to caress the large bulge of the outline of his cock in your stomach. “I know, tìyawn. I know. It’s so much, but you’re doing so well. Just a little more for me, okay?”

He can’t thrust now, can't even so much as pull out an inch now that he’s locked inside you. So, he makes you do the work. He keeps one hand on the bulge in your tummy, the other hand coming down to rub relentlessly at your throbbing clit. The stimulation makes you keen, pussy clenching and tightening around him and working his aching length with your wet walls.

His fingers on your clit are your undoing. He barely hears any noise from you as your orgasm hits, but this time he’s able to see the side of your face as you come undone. Your eyes roll back into your head, mouth opening in a silent scream, but it's like all the breath has been stolen from your lungs. Your body tenses, muscles shaking through the overwhelming pleasure, and he feels as much as he hears how you gush and squirt all over his teasing digits and the ground below you.

He moans at the sight, the feel of your pussy clenching around his length and the wetness from your orgasm on his fingers and cock makes him tip over the edge. His orgasm crashes through him, tearing him apart as he spills himself inside you. His cum paints your walls, and his knot makes sure to keep every single drop of it inside you.

Neteyam collapses next to you, shaking as the aftershocks roll through him, and pulls your limp body safely against his. It will be at least an hour before the knot’s swelling goes down enough before he’s able to slip out. You let out a moan of pain as the knot pulls at your entrance as he adjusts you, but he sushes you.

“Relax, ma yawne. I’ll take care of you.” He coos. “Oel ngati kameie,”

You don’t say it back. You don’t even hear him, already dead to the world as your exhaustion finally catches up with you.

It’s okay. He knows in his heart that one day soon, you’ll say it back.

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#𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔 ✎#neteyam smut #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x human reader smut #tw: non con #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent #tw: yandere

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