#and then I thought since they weren't exactly on the surface much before; this could still be sth 'new'

[starsmuserainbow]

"Am I going to die?" (Aoi for Akari... have fun :3)

General Sentences, Vol. 21

[[Thank you! <3]]

To be fair, no Akari hadn't experienced it before. And, since it seemed rather easy to happen, it probably was nothing harmful to humans, and she assumed it wasn't really a danger for them either. Still, though, she had maybe gasped a bit too shockedly to see the spots of color Aoi had on her hands after their earlier session of creating some advertisements for the Pearl Piari on cardboard, and Aoi's question in return - clearly a bit too panicked - was too good to not go along with it. "No, I don't think you are." She grinned for just a moment, before changing her expression to something a little more worried to deliver her bluff better.

"I have heard of it before!" Where was she, probably having had much more limited experiences with other people outside of her kingdom before than Aoi or anyone not from her kingdom really, supposed to have heard of it? It didn't matter, she just had to keep talking so no questions were going to be asked. "Ink on our skin won't kill us. It won't transform us back into our mermaid forms either, but... I have heard that a few times of transforming later, someone grew tentacles instead of a tail... and it'll keep happening, not everytime but more and more often... slowly but surely completely turning you into an octopod." She was doing her best to sound as dramatic as possible to sell her story, though it was difficult to not snicker along since she was absolutely making this up and it sounded ridiculous to herself.

[pascals-doll]

aint ya’ girlfriend!

⋆ ˚ . * · analysis— in which ellie doesn’t know the meaning “commitment”, well she does but chooses to not stay loyal. you’re her roomate and unattainable—or so she thought. venturing into your own dating life causes her to spiral, she aint your girlfriend & neither are you. | WC: 1.5K

₊˚ପ ellie williams x reader | photo cover obvi from Pinterest!

₊˚ପ MEOWW IM BACK !! gotta run it back with some toxic ellie 😇!!

₊˚ପ description: MODERN ROOMATE AU! NO PHYSICAL FEMALE DESCRIPTION! ANGST & SMUT, PORN W PLOT! (lol), toxic!ellie, roomate!ellie, PLAYER! (coded) ellie, JEALOUS!ellie, no use of Y/N, the mention of commitment issues, MUTUAL PINING, blatant flirting, secret crushing, heavy yearning, very small reader x dina, heated arguement, mention of ellie sleeping with multiple women, POWERPLAY, mix of dom!reader & dom!ellie, sub!ellie partly & sub!reader, pent-up sex (😇), teasing, HIGHKEY MAKEUP SEX (👅), possessive!ellie, finger-fucking ( E receiving), face riding (E receiving), 69, praising, pussy eating (both receiving), slight biting (both), slight choking (both), use of pet names ( baby, mama)

90% percent of things in this world are easily accomplished and achieved, being Ellie Williams roommate wasn’t one of them.

Since the day you met through a roommate finder site, after a few phone conversations getting to know each other t’ill the moment you arranged your meeting. Ellie's been enamored, secretly, nonetheless.

You would lie if you said that from the moment; she came to help you move out t’ill now—dealing with sleepless nights because of her lack of sexual resistance—that her consistent affection didn't sway you.

it's been exactly six months since you've moved in with Ellie and you could recount her daily routine like it was your skincare.

You weren't sure, if you genuinely thought Ellie was sure you were dumb or straight-up shameless.

At dark hours of the midnight, you might've been asleep but that didn’t stop her by the agonizing moans that echoed through cheap plywood walls. You groaned as you muffled your entire face and ears with your pillow, praying for them to shut the fuck up or stop.

Three days, twice a week.

Ellie had to have some type of sex problem. You thought to yourself. You're never one to hate someone's game-but living with the player is absolute fucking hell.

Every morning, you’re an early bird as Ellie is not, due to her nightly ventures.

You felt bad for the women who left disheveled, sneaking through the apartment at 7 AM to leave while you step out your bedroom; an empathetic smile shot their way before hurrying into the bathroom.

Your morning routine consists of cleaning yourself up before stepping out to cook early breakfast.

By the time, Ellie awoke and stepped out cockily, "Thank you, beautiful. You didn't have to cook me breakfast." She coaxed happily, pouring her cup of coffee at 12 PM. You sat on the couch reading your book, legs crossed and rested onto your coffee table.

You chuckled, "That shit's cold by now, I made it when tonight's booty-call left." Unphased and focused on your book. You could hear her footsteps begin to lead towards the living room area, closer, and closer to the couch you relaxed on.

You would never admit it. Although, her lack of respect for your peace—doesn't mean she should starve.

She joined you on the couch, empty space right beside. Ellie's presence tensing your muscles for some reason. She somewhat annoyed you but when you got to talk to her, it went so well. You guys actually had so much in common.

It felt serene to connect with her on many levels besides her surface actions, she was a timid person throughout the small cocky remarks. She was a great listener along as a storyteller over everything.

It was truly remarkable the balance she carried, also interesting. Something you couldn't quite wrap your head around still. You were willingly delusional, but it was clearly evident, you soaked in every moment with this person.

You lowered your book while she asked, "Hmph-touchè, you got any plans for today?" Calling your attention. Eyes sulked, the forest she carried within her eyes; it wasn't hard to comprehend why these women want a chance with her.

Ellie’s eyes were impossible not to get lost in, like compulsion. You never held eye contact too long, taking moments to break away, and retain from fluttering to the brown kissed freckles along her face to the shape of her soft lips.

You squint, a small smirk creeping through "Wouldn't you like to know what I'm up too." Your tone teases before going back to reading.

"I know what you been up too," Ellie tries to push further, reaching forward to delicately grasp your legs that rested on the coffee table. Your legs laid into her lap, sprawling across, and hanging off.

Another thing that consists of her routine the most? Spending the rest of the hours, days, and weeks flirting with you.

Ellie loved physical touch—as if she wasn't physical enough. She loved her hands on you.

Watching herself caress the exposed skin of your legs, massaging down t’ill your ankle high-socks. Wether it was platonic or flirtatious, affection was key with you.

Once again, you lower your book to meet her eyes.

Ellie’s hands worked their way down, her fingers pressuring skillfully onto your heel and tingling the palm of your foot. She continues watching you read, "Oh yeah? What am I going to do today?" You question her, disregarding your book.

Sinking herself into the couch, her hands moving up from your legs to your thighs. Softly squeezing on of them, goosebumping your skin.

Ellie smiles confidently, "Cuddle with me and watch movies." Her eyes shimmering. You gaze at the big grin she spoke with, unsure if she was ever genuine.

You sat-up and leaned closer towards her till met face-level, "I'm sorry Els, someone else booked my time for today! I'm sure you will find a way to entertain yourself, hm?" You patted her shoulder with a smile as you got up.

"Wait, What the fuck do you mean?"

"Oh Williams! I've got a date, gotta' get ready."

It was insane, truly.

Ellie thought she was going crazy; she couldn't ever date you.

You're too good for her, representing everything she should want but isn't ready for. She was aware of how clearly toxic and intoxicated she was off, and with you.

No. Fuck no.

Ellie repeated to herself mentally, alongside questioning her existence—had she really been so caught up on trying to get a reaction out of you to see your time focused on someone else? —Yes, she was.

It wasn't as bad as the delusions Ellie's paranoia was creating in her mind. You had hung out with your friends where you happened to meet Dina. She was a mutual friend that you were introduced too.

Ever since then, you've been flattered, and hoped for a dinner date with her. For you, it felt like an escape of emotional dread that came after every touch, sentence, and epithet that left Ellie's lips.

You hated the way you loved how affectionate she was, catching yourself vulnerable every time she touched you. Always dwelling the feeling of her soft warmth that soaked into your own invisible bliss, never allowing yourself to look too pleased; Yet, never pulling away.

Ellie headed down the hallway to your room. She was desperate to get you to stay, creating small and stupid conversation to slow you as she loved hearing her nickname fall from your lips even though she was practically seeping jealousy.

Ellie was her own ticking time-bomb, her patience melting, and mustering “Who's the lucky girl?" She bugged, trying her hardest to conceal that greened tone.

You swirl your chair around, now completely facing her as you couldn’t help your jaw fall agape. You examine her demeanor while speaking up, “I don't ask about your daily rendezvouses." You were quick to quirk back, feeling uncalled for.

Ellie's brows knitted together, "We-well—are you gonna' bring them back? I deserve to know that." She stumbled but spit back.

It was clear, now, you offended her. It was true. You never asked about the women she brought into your shared apartment. The women she brought to make you jealous.

The laugh you let out was priceless, "I don't get a say on who you bring home, why would you?" You called her out.

Ellie stepped closer to your chair. She looked into your mirror, leaving you no choice but to face her as your swirled around, her eyes gandered through your vanity mirror.

Your facial expressions were clearer as she continued to push, "It's different, you know that." She tries to prove.

You wanted peace and relaxation, something Ellie makes a sure mission of that you never fucking receive.

"You can't go out," Ellie began.

"Who's gonna stop me? Are you serious?' You thought she must've been fucking with you; you weren't going to hear another word of it.

"Just get out, get out now." Standing up from you chair, holding it open as she walks out, and slamming the door behind her.

You had left and most of all, you had left Ellie feeling like complete shit.

She couldn't believe you did this, did this to her. It felt like you had shot right through her heart, torturing her with her own distasteful antics, and leaving a sour tang to her soul.

In her mind, she thought you were utterly selfish. She couldn't see past the fact that, you, didn't owe her anything.

Ellie wanted you, beyond pleasure, more than anything. You became insatiable to her.

She didn’t allow herself to soak in tangled feelings she felt for you, knew she had, even if it ate her alive at night. You would come to visit her in her sleep or while she mindlessly fucked some girl—sometimes, even pretending it was you.

You are treasure to her, too valuable to touch, but always curious with growing desperation to obtain and protect.

Ellie's peace was founded in you, a safe place she loves calling home. Unknown to your knowledge and you disrupted it.

As she disrupts your peace by being with anyone, but you.

Ellie finally understood what you meant by those backhanded insults.

She sat there with her hands palmed to her face, fingers running, and scratching through her short soft locks. Messing her own hair up, contemplating on how she could turn such a deep pattern.

This entire time she had been failing and failed to see that.

Out of everything, she thought blowing up your phone was the answer.

When you finally opened your phone, you saw your notification inbox full.

ⓘ Els ❕50+ messages

ⓘ Els ❕50 missed calls

You excused yourself to the restroom at fhe table with Dina, "I'm sorry, is it okay if run to the restroom really quick?" You requested through a thick forced tone and hidden irritation.

Your date had been going amazing. You may not have a lot in common with Dina, but she's a cheerful person who brings a refreshening energy. It was nice being in her presence.

It wasn't enough though.

You found yourself comparing your conversations to the conversations you have with Ellie, who is just your fucking roommate.

Dina was picture perfect, absolutely stunning, and she respected you more than you imagined Ellie ever could. That was the thing; even if talking to Dina tonight was full of laughter.

Everything you wanted wasn't her.

Never able to shake the anticipation of her touches, and the absence of her presence. Which make you crave it. Crave her. She was pure risk and you never wanted her to change.

You had a crush on your roommate, and you were fucked.

You were in the restroom ringing Ellie's phone. Hearing the beat of your heart thumps.

"You better say something good." You wanted to scream out as the line connects. You had every right to be, never once have you blown up her phone.

"Where are you? Let me come get you." She hurried through her words, hearing her surroundings of cars driving with a swish of wind.

You paced around, shocked and even more angry, "Are you out? Where are you?" You throw her own question back at her, whisper-yelling in a stall.

Ellie was so desperate to find where you were out like a girlfriend gone rogue.

"On my way to come get you, now tell me, where." She states blatantly and impatiently.

"You fucking wish! what happened? your hookup ain't text ya' back?" Your tone was laced with pure spite. It was silent for a small moment over the phone.

"Tell me where you are or come home." You could hear the desperation through her roughed-up tone.

Not a word was said. Your mood had been completely killed and you were hanging on by a thread. Repeating herself, “Come home or tell me where you are, please."

For the first time, you heard Ellie beg. She was pleading for you to come home, and you hated to admit it; yet, again.

But it worked.

When you finally saw her, you didn’t bring yourself to look or speak while you walked completely past her.

The silence was piercing the whole way. You could hear a pin drop.

“No side piece tonight?” your tone, only bashful. You were exhausted and enraged.

Ellie's white wife-beater was roughed up and you could smell the stench of marijuana roam off her neck. She looked sullen, her eyes low, bagged, and her jaw seeming clenched; her hair staticy.

You observed her body language, scanning her lean figure. Her sweatpants hung loosely onto her hips as her gaze shifted between you and her own feet.

Huffing, "Just why." you state, disassociating yourself by looking at the ground. It was continued silence for a moment.

"You came back for a reason, though." Ellie finally spoke and it just made everything worse.

"You know what? I did. I came back because I actually care for you. I thought you were in trouble or something, so I thought, hey, maybe I should go back—" You began, your voice shrieking as it raised louder.

"Something you never fucking think to do, too busy fucking to show me an ounce of respect!" You yelled. Weight had been lifted.

It was like screaming a keyword at Ellie, budging from looking at ground to look at you "What are you talking about!?" Ellie's eyes widen, her eyebrows raising as she retorts.

"You don't fucking get it!" you didn't say anything as she raised her hand angrily into the air, then running in through her hair.

"It is so fucking hard trying to resist you." Ellie's eyes were piercing into yours, her steps stalking closer.

"No matter how many women, they are never you. You are all I think about." You could hear her voice grow lower and lower as you froze.

You were at a loss for words, lips parted as you try to focus on your breathing.

"I want you. I need you." Ellie continues, whispering. Feeling her warm breath feather your lips. Ellie closed any space between you both, pulling you into her.

You opened your mouth to speak—only for her to bring a finger up to shush your lips, "I can't stand the thought of you with someone else." Ellie continued, leaning in closer and slowly removing her finger.

So many parts of you wanted to scream rejection, but as you feel her warmth, and her words you’ve dreamed. You could feel your blood rush and heat you up, feeling Ellie's body haze you, your mouth desperate and shaky.

"Kiss me, then." you tut.

Your lips met passionately, an automatic fight for dominance as the pace got hot. The thirst shared was unquenchable.

The personal echoes of each other's kisses smack as your hands got lost in her hair. Your fingers slightly tug onto her loose locks. Ellie's hands greedily rapturing you further into her body—till she couldn't; craving to feel every part of you.

You were lost into the feeling of Ellie's lips, her tongue swiping at your bottom lip as she's desperate to explore more of you.

Your bodies fiend for each other, one of your hands tugging on her muscle tank, and the other lowering from her hair. Ellie's hands roam from your waist, trilling at the feeling of you grazing her neck. She passes your hips till she reached thigh, and hiking it up onto her hip.

Ellie's grasps and grips onto the thick of your thigh, slowly dipping to cup the cheek of your ass. She sneaked a firm squeeze on your ass causing you to shriek, allowing her tongue to explore every crevice of your mouth.

Ellie giggled into the kiss at your muffled moans, amused by how she's effecting you. You push her off slightly, catching your breath. You were both left breathless while she kept eyes on each part of you.

Taking a step closer, reaching your hand out to caress her cheek. Indulged by the freckles painted into her as your thumb brushes her soft cheek. Slowly traveling your hand to her nape before coming around full circle, choking her, and pulling her chest to chest.

You smirk at the way her pupils dilatated. Ellie's mouth was agape, leaning in to lick a teasing swipe along her bottom and top lip. "I'm not your girlfriend." you state.

A soft quick squeeze on her neck causing a weak whine to fall from her lips. Oh, this was better than you imagined.

Ellie gripped your arm, pulling you around and into her chest. Walking you back, you felt your back eventually hit against her door with a hasty thud. Her tongue explored you, intertwining with your own as you sucked softly.

Each grope and wet lick electrified a craving in your stomach, pulsing into your arousal. She struggles with the doorknob, jiggling it open as her other hand held you. Ellie would never admit how soaked you get her.

Your needy grinds contra the pleasure dripping through her briefs as her lips learned every secret love spot within your precious body. You both tumbled onto her bed, not a care in the world besides this fervid momentum shared between you both.

Ellie toppled you, slowly lowering closer. Taking a chance to catch her by suprise, pulling her down with your leg hooked, and flipping her over. Now, you were on top.

Your lips quickly find their way to her clavicle, pecking, and licking alongside her neck. Almost ripping off her wife-beater while leaving open-mouthed kisses onto her shoulder. Continuing kissing down and around her exposed tits.

Your eyes switched watching her face and the way the cool air perked up her nipples. Ellie's back arched as you teased your teeth onto the plush above her tits, right above her sensitive erect nipples. you leave an array of hickeys, enjoying each squirm let out from under you.

This was your sweet revenge, her punishment for every time; she could've been with you, but wasn't.

You didn't stop tricking her with your tongue. Maneuvering down from fondling one of her tits, twiddling your finger around her nipple, and sliding into her loose sweats.

Your hand hasty as you reach the warmth of her panties, middle, and ring finger curve into the soaked patch that leaked through her panty. Thumb pushing up on her clit softly while Ellie turns her head laying head on the bed, watching you tease her; growing embarrassingly wet.

It was primal instinct, playing, and pushing for her weaknesses. You studied every small moan and squirm left form her body. Your fingers continuously circle her clit through her panties. She was quick to spread her legs for you, allowing you access.

Ellie's tits perked and red by your teeth and feverish sucking. You kept finger firm, pressing down onto her covered clit as the fabric of her soppy panty rubbed into her, pulling her panty to the side, coating your two fingers with her slick.

Ellie's chest heaves with a loud moan as her thighs tremble. You watch her struggle to reach up and stop your arm. She was on the border of giving in and still anxious for control.

She grips onto your wrist, slimed finger following down to her vulnerable entrance, toying with her, torturously. You kiss and lick your way back up, meeting her berried lips.

Your middle finger pushes into her, curving upward, and enticing her walls which immediately knocked a desperate strangled moan out of Ellie, throwing her head back.

The sound of her slick swirl and smack within gliding in and out of her whetted pussy brought you a gluttonous satisfaction. Her addictive cries encouraged another finger to join your soaked middle, stretching her out completely. Ellie’s grown in nail tips dug into your incensed flicking wrist.

Ellie on a frenzy of choked whines and unstable string of moans, "Gah-fuck me!".

You admire the work you've sucked onto her body. A fleeced giggle leaves your lips as you plant feathered kisses onto her cheeks, "Already am, baby" You murmured.

The pace you fucked her with was exquisite, your fingertips fluttering against her g-spot as they plunge deeper. Quickening your thrusts with every squelch given by Ellie’s gushed pussy. She held her mouth agape, allowing yourself to dive your tongue in, swallowing her lewd noises.

Ellie clenches around you, her pussy guzzling every inch of your thickened fingers. You could feel and hear her heartbeat pound against your smushed chests, "Ya'like it? like how it feels, honey?" Your question was coy, sliding your fingers fourth, pressing your tips verse her walls.

"Ah! yes, fuck, fuck yes!—I'm gonna'—" Lecherous shrieks fell from her lips as you help ride out her orgasm. Your fingers relentless in her pussy, juicing itself around your fingers; coating your fingers.

"Let it out, Els", You start to praise into her ear, "I know you've been dying too."

Your coo finishes her off with a loud grunt as you pull out your lustered up fingers. Without looking or a second thought, your free hand grabbed Ellie's jaw and attempted to focus her dazed vision to watch you.

Both of your eye's leer into each other as you plop your fingers into your mouth, coming sucking off her cum with a pop.

Ellie's eyes turned dark, her lids hazed, and hooded.

Slowly lifting yourself and shifting your hips below her stomach, Ellie was quick with her movements, flipping you over, and trapped under her. The feeling of her hands running up and down your clothed body, leaning down your ear, “Time, I took all this off…” She weakly whispers as she hovers over you.

Your body was completely sprawled onto her navy-blue sheeted bed with your arms raised above your head, and her knee pushing into your clothed heat. Mimicking your exact position, each sloppy kiss was followed by a piece of clothing being thrown off.

Seconds. How quick it was for you to be in nothing but your panties. Ellie’s kisses were precise and every nonverbal praise by the unconscious grind of your hips and bit-back whines.

She flows herself between your legs, pulling each one onto her shoulders as her lips pecked from your thighs till, she met your damped panty. "You had your fun," She started muttering into you.

"Only fair if I have mine, right mama?" Ellie cocks her head to the side, meeting your eyes before biting your panty-lining and proceeding to hike down your panties with her teeth.

Your eyes peered into her, watching the way she intently focused every part of you. She kissed every beauty mark that was blessed up your body. The feeling of her breath inching closer to your dewed pussy-lips; arching your back in temptation.

You thread your fingers throughout her hair, tugging slightly. You were no longer challenging her, giving complete submission to Ellie.

She watches the way arousal drips from your slit; her hands massaged the goosebumps perking the hairs on you. Ellie couldn't believe she was granted with such a divine privilege, drooling at the thought.

Ellie kitten-licked the delicious nectar that trickled, her tongue dragging flat against your pussy, and licking up your pulpy clit. Indulging in every moment spent between your legs with every keen lick trailed across your heat.

An inflamed jolt seeds through your spine, your entire body to thrash further into the bed as you cry out, "Ah!—Fucking god!" Your pleasure enthralling you to your ankles.

The wet smacking from her saliva coated sucks mixed with your core's elation. A train of vulgar slob laps your pussy while she gets lost in between your furred lips and swallowing you up, “It ain’t god, baby.” Smirking at your sensual vulnerability.

The tone she used was condescendingly sweet. Trembling your legs and jerking your hips which pushed Ellie’s head further into your pussy as the heel of your foot digs into her shoulder, and hands wrestling through her brunette locks.

Your head was thrown back in tempestuous joy, “Mmph! Ellie!—so fucking good!” Ellie’s tongue danced on your clit before making her way towards your soppy entrance.

Pure ecstasy marauded its way up and through your internal, tightening your abdomen. Every strike of her tongue inched closer to cumming all over her. You felt your hips cramp as you try to push Ellie off, backing away desperately.

You struggled, meekly crying out, "F-fuck! stop! stop!" Ellie immediately pulled away with wide eyes. She looked up at you alarmed, "Did I hurt you?!" her tone sincere and worried as she got up, standing above you.

Trying to catch your breath, sweat glistening your naked body. You lean up on your elbows to look at her, "Get on the bed..." your voice was breathless and clear. Ellie walks over slowly, hovering next to you on the empty side of the bed while licking the corners of her lips deviously.

Ellie leans over, her hand threading through your messy hair as she kissed you ferociously. Tasting yourself on her tongue as your own greedily twirled around her mouth. Both of your tongues swirl around each other as your arms find their way around Ellie's body.

You pull away from her lips, "Put your pussy on me." you sulk, regaining your strength.

"Aren't you charming." She jokes out sarcastically and smirking, "Oh, just sit on my face." you huff with a fun grin.

Just like that, Ellie turns around, holding herself up onto your thighs. Your hands run through the back on her thighs till you made your way to her ass, fondling, and squeezing her plush flesh. Mouth’s salivating at each other.

Ellie lets out a gratifying groan as your tongue swipes her sensitive slits, twirling around her hole and thumb circling her clit. Arching herself down onto you more while leveling herself in-between your thighs, leaving sloppy opened kisses on your pussy.

Your stomach bubbles up lewdly, chasing after her swirling tongue within the impatient trial to get her to cum all over your face. The mix of each other's nibbles and starved slurps, propelling bodies together as your legs convulsed and her own thighs shook with inched erotica.

You feel your orgasm coarse and itch closer as Ellie continues to drag between your slits. Starting to move faster, hips grinding against your face. Ellie is soon following close behind, both of you moaning and panting while reaching each other’s simultaneous climax.

A string of choked out moans bouncing off her white walls, “Don-Don’t stop!” you gasp out before closing your mouth around her clit.

Continuous harmony between both of your moans as you both cum all over each other, creaming your faces.

You and Ellie lay in each other's arms, basking in the afterglow. Eyes dozed, sweaty bodies entwined, and sharing a first tender moment of silence.

You lifted your nuzzled head from the crook of her neck, breaking the silence.

“I don't want you to touch anyone besides me.” Voice hoarse and clearer than ever.

“I dont want to ever see anyone besides you.”

A/N: I FEEL BEYOND GRATEFUL FOR REACHING 1k WHILE I WAS GONE 🥹 i thought it was about time i post cus i finally feel like ? confident ? i spent most of my time if it wasn’t personal life duty, id be writing a bunch of self indulgent fictions (THIS WAS ONE OF THEM LOL) and practicing and differentiating my writing style to my liking.

THANK YOU SO MUCH GENUINELY IT MEANS THE WORLD! i cant wait to continue :)

dolls-taglist̗̀➛ @marsworlddd @cosmopolitanaut @elliewilliamsgirl3 @elliewilliamgfooc @graviewaviee @yourelliewillms @elliesgf1244 @deliriousrn @yondaimekazzy @moonyvs4 @tearouthearts @ride4els @colecassidysfav @theoraekenslover @localorphanage @starmoon333

updated taglist link here! (other was corrupted)

[bunny-jpeg]

collars, lando n. - heaven came in the form as a collar. while most assumes that it was a hefty piece of leather with a clasp on the back. something for a dog. but you weren't a bitch, you weren't an animal to be tamed. you were lando's everything. never had he had the luxury of the love of a woman like you. your love danced under his skin and sent his brain into overdrive with the simplest of touches.

lando was a possessive man, in the world of racing many things required hyper focus. and lando's hungry gaze always landed on you. he yearned for you, that's why he bought you the collar. a symbol of his mark on you. something that wouldn't ruin with age, forever a reminder of who was your man. because lando was no fool, you were going to be together forever.

you collar was a gold chain that you could never take off. to most it seemed like an evergreen accessory, but to you it was a sign that you were an owned woman. a woman with a man who loved her.

most had wedding rings, you had a pretty gold chain. lando loved you in gold. but his favourite was the collar he gave you. the piece of him that was with you always, as if there wasn't so much his cum kept safely in your achy cunt as you greeted friends for a dinner party. lando would play with your chain while you were curled up on the couch in the vip section of a club. yank on it a little when he pulled you in for kisses. his words, "good girl." made you ears burn with heat.

"a girl looks best when she's collared. owned by a man." he said with humor in his tone. he loved a independent woman as much as the next guy, but to see you grew aroused by his degrading words was often a turn on for him, "should've gotten my name around that little neck of yours. a little extra hardware around that pretty throat of yours. then no one would have the balls to flirt with you. but, i know something better than gold. pretty, splotchy bruises."

lando loved when he got you hot and bothered with just his words. to watch you squirm in your seat as he held you close to him, his fingers across your throat where the chain was, "pretty things deserve pretty things. and good girls deserve the world." he yanked on the gold chain a little and chuckled lowly in your ear, "and you're my good girl, right? you listen to your man. behave for me. i work all day and all night to make your little life charmed. that's why you wear the collar, another thing i paid for. i pay for everything you own, baby. all mine. top to bottom. from the pretty paint on your nails to your soaked panties." lando made more money than you'd ever seen. you were his to poke, prod, kiss, fuck, squeeze, spank, and most of all, mark up anyway he saw fit. after all, he paid good money. even got you a lovely collar. you were the ultimate live in girlfriend, practically a housewife for lando. and he loved that. the ability to yank the gold chain, to pull you closer in more ways than one.

he was a hungry lover. he was a passionate, starving lover. they type of lover that would have you pressed up the nearest surface with the skirt of your dress flipped up and his heavy cock sank into you. speaking of dresses, you found yourself in more dresses than before. since lando started to buy you new clothes, the colours became softer as did the fabrics. and you had more dresses than at any other point in your life. you thought it was weird that your jeans and ratty t-shirts were slowly disappearing from your closet.

"where is that red t-shirt i always wore." you pouted as you searched through the drawers. "don't know, love. but i think you look better in orange anyway." the next day there are white and soft orange striped panties in your drawer. maybe not exactly mclaren colours, but you didn't need garish, loud colours. you needed something softer, delicate. like the chain around your neck.

"don't need anyone else but me, beautiful." he often said, especially when you're so-called friends ditched you for the evening. lando may have told them that you didn't want to go out. that the plans were mixed up and tonight you were spending with him. and don't even bother looking at instagram. it always made you sad when you saw them out without you. but it was alright, he'll make it all better. that was what he did, right? no need to worry about anything while he was by your side. clubbing isn't as fun when you could spend the night in bed with lando getting orgasm after orgasm out of you. fingers and tongue, followed by his cock. it left you out of breath and out of your mind. the throb of want coursing through you. insatiable.

curled up at lando's side, his hand in your hair. maybe he needed something nicer than a collar, maybe he was right. he needed to mark you pretty neck in the darkest purples he can make with his teeth. <3

a/n: thank you to everyone who basically forced me to take a few days off from writing. i'm slowly getting back into the game. here's a little something for you

[felinecyan]

When The Night Calls

[Izuku Midoriya x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Your best friend leaving the hero course was enough to make you lose your mind. Especially when he’s suddenly standing across from you with nothing but a tired smile.

WC: 2978

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vigilante!Deku

Please give this one extra love!! Somehow Midoriya is also very suspiciously difficult to write 👀 (Also, that 3rd-degree burn I gave my hand today is making me want to cry and throw myself in a river. Damn you, AO3 curse!! )

『••✎••』

Seeing that letter taped on your door broke you in more ways than one.

He had been gone for almost a week, but his note left behind made you realize just how long it'd been. How long he had left you with nothing more than a simple explanation of his departure and how it felt like he was never coming back.

The entire class had been on edge ever since. The note even threw Bakugo for a loop, as much as he would deny it. It had everyone wondering where he was and if he was okay.

It hurt you the most, though. He was the closest friend you had and the only one who truly understood your feelings.

But now he was gone.

Aizawa still continued teaching, but with Midoriya absent, the class just couldn't focus. He wasn't as good at making things seem less depressing or stressful, and his lectures were just boring without a green bush to lighten the mood. Or at least, you thought so.

You haven't been paying much attention lately, and you're too busy thinking of your missing friend. Your grades had been slipping, but it wasn't like anyone could blame you. Even if your friends could, they didn't say anything.

They had tried talking to you, but all you could do was give them a half-hearted smile, shake your head, and tell them, "I'm fine."

You weren't fine, and you knew that. But what were you supposed to do? Cry about it? It’s not like he’d come back if you did that.

Ironically, he did technically come back.

That day, Aizawa decided to keep the pain everyone felt about Midoriya buried beneath the surface, so he assigned you all a ten-page essay about the history of quirks.

So, here you were, writing a half-assed essay close to two in the morning. Kaminari was blowing up the group chat with memes and random jokes, but no one seemed to care or even respond.

Well, that was until Bakugo started yelling at him to stop texting because he was trying to sleep.

That went on for about a solid ten minutes, with everyone getting annoyed at the two idiots, but eventually, it died down.

You took a glance at the clock, which now read 2:12 a.m.

Sleep just couldn't come to you. Not now, not when your brain was filled with thoughts of the broccoli boi.

Then, there was a tiny patter against your window, almost like a knock. If it hadn’t been so quiet, you might not have heard it.

You ignored it at first, of course, but it continued, the knocks getting louder and more urgent.

Finally, you stood from your chair, deciding to investigate, but then, the knocking stopped.

You paused, confused, but shrugged, figuring you must have been hearing things.

Yeah, right, because hearing knocks on your dorm window at 2 a.m. is normal.

It turned out to be a good thing you got up because when you turned back around, a figure was directly behind you.

You jumped back in fear, letting out a short shriek before slapping your hands over your mouth. The side eye glance to your window, now open and curtain rustling in the slight wind, had you regretting not locking the damn thing.

The figure let out a small chuckle, his shoulders shaking a bit, and your heart rate sped up.

You could see the person a lot better now that they weren't in the shadows, but the moonlight still kept their face hidden.

All you could see was the curly mess of green hair and a large hoodie with a black mask pulled over the bottom half of their face.

But you didn’t have to see his eyes to know exactly who it was.

Your hands fell limply to your sides as the boy stepped closer. His hand reached the hood of his suit, slowly pulling it off, and his bright, emerald green eyes were staring straight into yours.

The only thing you could do was stare, dumbfounded.

"You did lock it, by the way," the boy's voice said. It sounded hoarse and scratchy as if he hadn't spoken in days. He probably hadn't.

Still, his intuition never failed.

You continued to stare, eyes wide and unblinking.

Midoriya's brow furrowed, a look of worry replacing his smile.

"They really should put more difficult locks on these things. I mean, honestly, all I had to do was twist it, and it opened. If I were a villain, then— hmph!"

Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, cutting him off. His eyes widened, surprised, but eventually, he relaxed, wrapping his own arms around your waist and pulling you closer.

"I was so worried," you said. You could feel your body starting to tremble, tears pricking your eyes. "Everyone was."

His arms tightened, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"I know. I'm sorry," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. "I couldn't think of any other way."

You leaned back a bit enough to look him in the eyes. His tired, determined eyes.

"Wait, if you’re here… does that mean...?"

"I need my notebook." He kept his frown, and a sigh escaped his lips. "You have my old notes, right? I need those."

Oh.

That was it.

That was why he was back.

"Oh," You failed to hide the disappointment in your tone. "Right, uh, hold on…"

You pulled away, your eyes looking away from his. You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head as you walked over to the desk, rummaging through the drawer.

Speaking of, your desk was an absolute disaster. If allowing students in your dorm room wasn't against the rules, Iida would have broken down your door a long time ago, screaming at the top of his lungs about how your room was in utter chaos.

Eventually, you found it. It was covered in sticky notes, and some of the pages were folded. Makes sense, considering the fact that you'd spent the last week reading it, studying, and hoping to find some kind of clue about his whereabouts and the league itself.

But even if it was in your hands, screaming for its owner, you hesitated. He was going to leave again, wasn't he? He wasn't going to stay.

But common sense hit you. You couldn’t force him to stay. It would be selfish of you to even ask.

You turned, walking back over to him. He was staring intently at the ground, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and he had a small frown on his face.

When you were a couple of feet away, he finally looked up, his hand reaching out for the book.

"Here," you said, trying not to let the sadness seep into your words. "Don’t mind the added stickies. Simpler terms, easier to understand, you know?"

"Right, thanks," he murmured, his eyes darting over the cover before flipping through the pages. His brows were scrunched together, and his fingers fiddled with the pages, flipping through them with a practiced speed.

He was so concentrated on the notebook that he didn't see your frown, and he didn't see the sadness in your eyes.

But then, he froze.

His eyes scanned over one of the pages, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book, and his breath hitched.

His eyes flickered up to yours, and his lips were set in a tight line.

"You read this?"

"Huh?" You blinked, taken aback. "Was I… not supposed to read it all?"

"What? No, no, I meant this page."

He flipped the book around, opening it to a certain page, and held it up for you to see.

Oh, yeah, his page. The one where he wrote about himself. Which, proudly, you knew most of what was written in it, anyway. Some things caught you off guard, but not many.

"Oh, yeah, I skimmed over it," you admitted.

"And... how much did you skim over?"

"Um... all of it? I mean, I'm in your hero notes, too. I took a lot more of my time on the page dedicated to me, I have to admit, but uh… What's the big deal?"

Midoriya looked at you, and his gaze was intense. "Did you… miss me that much that you would study my hero notes that closely?"

"Well, I wouldn’t say closely—"

He tilted his head in an almost sarcastic manner, and his eyes narrowed as he leaned over to point at a section in his notes.

A bright pink sticky note, covered in stars, was stuck onto the paper.

It was a small part, a very short paragraph, and you had given your analysis of him and not of his quirk either. It was a list of his attributes, his personality, and the type of hero he was.

To someone else, it would be pretty informative about what kind of person he was and what kind of hero he would be, but you both knew the true meaning behind the note.

Because it was all the things you missed about him.

"… oh, " was all you could say.

The air around you two suddenly became awkward, the silence becoming heavy.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

But, as expected, Midoriya broke the silence.

"I figured since you’re still awake, it must mean that you're working on homework or studying, and you wouldn’t do that at night if I weren’t gone," he began. "I thought that maybe it would be too soon to come back, or even that I should have stayed away, but, well, I really needed my notes, and, honestly, I wanted to see you, and—!"

He was rambling again. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, his brain spitting out more words than his mouth could.

At least he was still himself, you thought.

You decided to cut him off, placing your hand on his arm, and he jolted at the sudden contact, his head snapping back up to yours.

"I’m sorry," you said, looking down.

He looked confused, tilting his head. "What for? You have nothing to be sorry for; you didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I—" You cut yourself off, biting your lip, and looked away. You took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm sorry," you started. "For not stopping you. For not coming with you. For not helping you. I had no idea what you were going through, and I was too worried about myself, and I didn't—"

"Hey, hey, stop," Midoriya said, placing his hand on your shoulder. You hadn't realized you were shaking. "This is my fight, okay? It's not yours, and I was the one who didn’t want to bring anyone else into this mess. This isn’t your fault, so please don’t beat yourself up about it."

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." You looked back up at him, tears blurring your vision. "I don’t know how to help."

He was silent for a moment, but then, he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you once again, and you buried your head in his chest, gripping the fabric of his hoodie.

"It's okay," he said. "I don’t expect you to know how to help, and I didn’t come here for your help. Well, technically, I did since you had my notebook, but I’m speaking on a—"

“I know, I know," you mumbled.

Another moment of silence, and then, he sighed, a puff of air brushing your ear.

"I'm not sure when I'll be back, if I ever will, but I promise," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear and his words making your heart skip a beat. "I promise we will be fine. We all will. Me, you, everyone else. It might take a while, but we will be okay."

You nodded, your grip on his hoodie tightening. This was the sound of a goodbye, and the finality of it terrified you.

"It’s just…" you mumbled, and his brow furrowed.

"Just what?"

You hesitated, a lump forming in your throat.

"What?" He repeated, pulling back to look you in the eye. "Please tell me."

You took a deep breath, swallowed the lump, and looked him in the eye.

"It's just that... You’re my not-alone buddy, remember?”

Midoriya froze, his eyes widening.

It was a little game you two had back when things weren’t so complicated. Back when you were just normal students.

You both struggled to make friends, so you made a pact. Obviously, that thought disbanded when everyone else got close, and now you all were pretty good friends, but the friendship between him and you was different. It was a bond between you two that was just special.

Not even ‘Kacchan’ could ruin that, as close as he and Midoriya grew.

You never called him Deku, even after Bakugo and the rest of the class started calling him by the nickname. Sure, it was his hero name, and you could call him that, but you just never felt comfortable.

Todoroki didn’t either, but then again, Todoroki didn't call anyone by their nicknames.

But, back to the point.

"We made a pact, and... that was one of the things I wrote on the sticky notes." You gestured to the book. "It was during my angry denial phase, so I’m not that proud of it, but… it was still true."

"You were angry?" He asked, confused. "Why?"

"Well, first of all, I was worried sick. I knew you were going to go do something stupid, and obviously, I was right.”

He winced at that.

"But I was angry because you didn’t trust me, and I felt like you were leaving me, too," you said, biting your lip. "I know that sounds stupid and selfish, and I get that this was your battle, not mine, and I can't change that, but... I guess I was just scared. You didn’t even tell me before you left, and the note was just..."

You trailed off, a lump forming in your throat again, and your eyes burned with tears.

You didn't want to cry in front of him, so you buried your face in his chest again, and his grip tightened around you.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

You shook your head. "Don’t apologize. It's not like you're changing your mind."

He was quiet for a moment, his head lowering and his lips resting on your forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Your breath hitched. "Izuku, please don't say it."

He pulled back, and his face was unreadable. He looked determined, his eyes burning with passion, and it hurt. It hurt to know that, despite everything, he still had his mind made up.

"I have to go," he said, and his voice was quiet. "I don’t want to leave you alone. I really don’t, but I have to, and you need to stay safe. Me being here isn't doing anything good, and I can't keep coming back and putting you in danger. So, for now, at least until the Shigaraki is dealt with, please just be safe. Don’t try and find me, and please don't let anyone else know I was here."

He paused, his eyes glancing towards the window.

"Actually, I might come back just to get rid of that lock. I mean, seriously, I barely even touched it, and it came right off. You could easily replace it with something stronger, maybe one of those new locks that only respond to fingerprints! But, then it can be traced back to you, and they can use you to— oh, man, I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

You didn't bother to respond. Instead, you leaned up, pressing your lips against his cheek.

Midoriya's entire face went bright red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

You could feel your face burning, but it was worth it to see his reaction.

"Be careful," you said. "Please, Izu, don’t be stupid."

"R-Right."

He stumbled a bit, his hand coming up to touch the spot where your lips were. His eyes flickered back to you, and you swore you saw him blushing, but then he turned, heading towards the window.

"Oh, uhm, b-by the way," he said, reaching the window. He placed his hand on the frame, glancing back at you. "For Aizawa's essay, you have to also analyze the strengths and weaknesses, not just the evolution of quirks. Make sure to read the whole paragraph in that book he gave us at the beginning of the semester."

He gave you one last smile, pulling the mask over his mouth and the hood over his head. You looked in befuddlement as he stepped out onto the roof, and your hands were wrapped around the edges of the open window.

"How did you—"

"It's Aizawa," His mask was muffling his voice, so he lifted it up a bit, and his eyes twinkled. "What else do you expect from him?"

And then he jumped.

He let the mask drop back down and became just another shadow in the night, with his green lightning trailing behind him.

You didn’t have the energy to laugh, and you didn't have the heart.

You leaned against the windowsill, letting the cool night air wash over your face. You sighed, watching the clouds drift in the sky.

"You're still an idiot," you whispered, closing your eyes.

When the sun rises, this encounter will only be a distant memory.

But for now, the cold night was enough to convince you otherwise. For now, his green eyes were staring up at the same night sky, and he was thinking of you, too.

That kiss on the cheek, as tame as it was, was still enough to make his head spin. You were still his friend, his not-alone buddy, and nothing was going to change that.

And you both were okay with that.

[yanf4iry]

don’t you think, pet? ♡

wc 827

yandere(ish)! capitano x afab bratty! reader

subtle yandere themes. hints at friends with benefits. jealous! capitano. aggressive! capitano. slightly bratty reader. hair tugging. ‘pet’ used a couple times. unprotected sex (pls be safe!). afab autonomy. kinich mentioned. its only short so there isn't much to tag lol.

"what did i tell you about wandering around with all those other boys? hmm?" capitano mumbles, his breath tickling up against the sensitive skin behind your ear, hands trailing down to hold you in place; even his subtle grip being strong enough to do so.

"i've told you already," you sigh, rolling your eyes slightly, growing slightly tired of his possessive and jealous behaviour. "i was just hanging out with kinich, i don't see him like that."

"and i've told you already," capitano trails off, mimicking your previous choice of words, "i don't care how you see him, because i see how he looks at you," he continues, grip getting tighter as his voice progressively turns into a low-toned growl.

he was thankful for the current predicament you were both in; the dining table in front of you made it so easy for him to push you and bend you over, whilst his tall figure was shadowing behind you, making sure there was no room for you to try worm your way out.

and so here you are, chest and face pressed against the cold, wooden surface. capitano gutting as he starts to fumble with your belt and the buttons on your trousers; his slender fingers making work of them.

"i don't like you 'hanging out' with him," he proclaims possessively, "and i also don't like you wearing these trousers, they make my access to you so much harder," capitano adds, huffing as he finally managed to yank them down along with your freshly damp panties.

"you can't control everything i do, you know?" you answer back, voice oozing with disobedience, before gasping slightly at the feeling of the cold air on your slick folds. "you're not my boyfriend."

that comment made him suck his breath in sharply, growing more annoyed by the second. no, he wasn't your boyfriend (yet) but that doesn't mean you weren't his, and that doesn't mean he wasn't going to put you in your place every time you acted out.

"i don't care," he grits through his teeth. "i'm the one that's going to teach you some manners since you obviously don't know how to follow orders, pet."

you'd be lying if you said seeing him like this didn't turn you on; because it did. good god, it did. you knew exactly how to get on his nerve, and you fucking loved the reaction you got from it. capitano was well aware you did these things on purpose as well, yet somehow fell for it every time and couldn't help but let his jealousy get the best of him.

without even giving you time to think, his fingers were trailing against the most inner parts of your thighs, teasing the sensitive skin around there, causing you to tremble subtly. "shit.." you breathe out.

"your lack of patience is aberrant," capitano scolds, slapping the inside of your thigh with some force. "and to think i thought you had manners; you'll get whatever i want to give you, when i want to give it."

you could hear the echoes of clunking and fidgeting once more, and that was when your wetness was met with the tip of his cock, him teasingly brushing it against you; a mewl being forced from your lips. "patience.." he whispers, leaning forward so his mouth was hovering just behind your ear once more.

the thickness of his tip parts your folds, covering himself in your wetness. you sigh in exasperation, pushing yourself back against him. capitano gripped your waist bruisingly tight in one quick motion, halting your actions almost immediately. "have you gone deaf?" he growls, fingernails digging into your skin.

"you'll get whatever i want to give you," he starts up, a low grunt leaving his lips, "when i want to give it to you."

"or i can leave.." you trail off, mischief riddled in your tone before a playful smirk appears on your face; even though he couldn't see it due to your face being pressed against the table, it was apparent from how you spoke. "maybe.. maybe kinich wants to give me what i-"

you weren't even able to finish your sentence, capitano pushed himself up against your entrance and pushed himself in, causing you to moan. a noise he much preferred over you threatening him with running off to another man for pleasure.

"did you really think i'd ever let you finish that fucking sentence?"

his thrusts were harsh, almost violent in a way as he claimed what he believed. no, what he knew, was his. "don't you ever let me hear anything like that nonsense leaving your mouth, ever again? you hear me?" he questions, hand moving to your hair, tugging on it tightly.

"about time i fucked some manners into you.." capitano grunts against your ear, nipping at it slightly with the sharpness of his teeth, enjoying the choked-out moans escaping your gaped lips. "don't you think, pet?"

"because you're mine. only mine."

[withleeknow]

remedy.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; implies that minho has anxiety, unedited bc i am me and you shouldn't expect much from me lmao word count: 1.2k note: hello hello!! i've been meaning to write this since the day of the rock-star comeback but i'm only getting around to finishing it now lol. but the timing's pretty neat so consider this a christmas present from me and mine to you and yours!! <33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

when the sun rouses you awake in the morning, you feel two arms loosely wrapped around you that weren't there before you fell asleep last night.

you smile to yourself, enjoying the warmth and comfort that he brings you. home, finally.

you turn in his hold, as gently as you can to not disturb your slumbering minho.

you don’t know when exactly he got back, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours ago. sometimes, when he has night schedules, he doesn’t usually return until the sun is peeking over the horizon. you’re used to him having to work throughout the wee hours of the night every other week. you don’t like it, but you’re used to it.

you expect to find him snoozing peacefully beside you, with his handsome face and his lips parted cutely as he lightly snores, but when you finally shuffle around to look at him, you instantly frown.

a frown that matches his own.

baby, you think, what’s wrong?

even in his sleep, minho’s brows are knitted together, the corners of his mouth tugged downward like he’s having a bad dream. the instant concern that rushes through you parts the hazy fog in your brain, and then... you remember.

it was only half past three in the morning when your phone buzzed to life, the vibrations resounding brassily against the wooden surface of your nightstand. reaching out blindly for the device, you only needed to peek through one eye to scan the time and the caller id before you held it to your ear, your face still smushed against your fluffy pillow.

"hmm?"

"i'm sorry," minho was quick to apologize. "did i wake you?" he sounded rushed, like he had wandered off to a corner to steal a few minutes for himself before having to go back.

you made a noncommittal noise, already feeling the exhaustion luring you back to dreamland. it had been a long week and you'd endured five whole days just to get to the weekend, to be able to spend hours on end with your boyfriend. it'd be just you and him, wrapped up together in your cozy little bubble, all your stresses and troubles kept at bay. he was always the best part of your days, your weeks, your months, even your years.

even though you were drifting, you still managed to ask, "is everything okay?"

"yeah, everything’s fine. i just missed you."

it made you smile nonetheless. he didn’t often disturb you in the middle of the night just to be sappy with you whenever he was stuck working odd hours, but it wasn’t necessarily anything out of the ordinary. minho could still be needy and clingy sometimes. it was one of the things that you loved most about him - that he could be a grumpy cat most of the time, but underneath that prickly exterior, he was just a big softie. you loved it even more that you were the only person who could bring out that side of him.

"missed you too," you mumbled. it didn’t sound at all lively, but you knew he could tell that you meant it.

you caught a sigh from his end before he continued. though this time, he let his defenses down when he spoke. his voice came out along with a tired exhale, laced with something that you would’ve been able to pick up on had your mind not been delirious with sleep. "wanna be there with you," he said in earnest. "want you to be here with me."

"when are you coming home?" you asked, even though the words came out a little garbled, your voice heavy with sleep.

"in a couple hours. i'll be home right after this."

"okay. we can-" cue a big yawn. "we can stay in bed as long as you want in the morning."

"yeah, that sounds nice."

"then i’ll see you in a bit, okay?"

he paused briefly before his next words came out a little unsteady, hesitant. the unease with which he spoke bypassed your unassuming radar completely. "can we just stay on the phone?"

"min-"

"you don't have to talk to me. just... stay with me for a while."

you think you might've passed out again after that, the subsequent silence and his breathing on the other end having lulled you back to sleep in a matter of seconds.

my love, it brings tears to your eyes just thinking about it, how could i have missed it?

you quietly move closer to him, shuffling inch by inch until you’re chest to chest, hoping his body could sense your warmth and be comforted by it, even just a little bit. you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, but even that simple touch stirs him awake even though minho is usually a deep sleeper.

his eyes slowly open, and you suppose the tug on your heartstrings loosens when the furrow between his brows eases as he takes in the sight of you.

he heaves a sigh of relief, and it’s like you can actually see some of the tension leaving his body as he pulls you to him, holding you against him so tightly that it’s impossible to move even if you wanted to.

"hi," you say, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling further into him until it’s hard to tell if the heartbeat you feel is yours or his.

"hi," he replies, his soft lips placing a greeting kiss on the top of your head.

"bad day?" night, but oh well. technicalities. 

his answer comes muffled against your hair, though you feel the slight vibration of his chest when he mutters, "it wasn’t that bad. i was just a little overwhelmed."

"but it's better now?"

"much better, now that you’re here."

truthfully, you don’t really know what to say in moments like this. you want to be able to offer him reassuring words that could ease his nerves and calm his raging sea, but you’re not good with words. you never have been. you don’t think you ever will be, as much as you want to. for him.

it makes you feel guilty at times, not being able to give minho the peace he needs.

you do try though, to comfort him as much as you can.

"i love you," you say quietly. your arm wraps around him, your palm landing on his upper back where your fingers tenderly soothe the firm muscles you find. i'm sorry i wasn't there for you. i wish i have the right words to say to you.

"i could listen to you breathe and feel ten times better," he admits, putting some distance between your faces so he can look at you, as if it'll help emphasize his words. "i don’t even need you to do anything. i just need you. you’re more than enough for me."

his eyes bore into yours, glittering with nothing but a kind of sincerity that he never shows anyone but you. you kiss him then, soft and slow. you want to pour as much love into him as you possibly can. and even then you don't think it can amount to a fraction of what he deserves.

but nonetheless, you try. you try because he means the world to you.

i'll do better for you. let me share your burdens with you.

pulling away, you tell him, as your palm gently holds his cheek, a touch which he leans into instantaneously. "go back to sleep. i’ve got you."

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.12.2023]

[stayteezdreams]

More Or Less Than Friends

Plot: You and Seungmin aren't quite friends, but you're not not friends. Feelings neither of you are sure about linger under the surface. Everything changes one night when you fall asleep at his apartment.

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Gn!Reader

A/n: Prologue and Continuation of this scenario post. Section involving reader falling asleep in dorm is a slightly edited/extended version of the Scenario post drabble. A/n #2: I haaate how this ended but my brain decided to give up on me when I was almost done lol. I hope you like it anyways!

Requested By: Anon; I also just wanted to write it as well.

Warnings: Nothing I can think of :)

Words: 4,382

You had been Felix's friend for a few years before you met the others. It didn't take long before you became great friends with all of them, often spending time with them.

Well, most of them.

For some reason, unbeknownst to you, you and Seungmin never grew very close.

You could have conversations, and hang out, but never alone. It wasn't on purpose, there was just always someone else there. And it's not like he made you uncomfortable, it was the opposite actually.

You felt comfortable around him, you thought he was funny, cute and kind. He even made jokes with or about you sometimes, and it never felt rude. As if it was a gently way of getting closer to you. Though the distance never seemed to lessen between you.

After some deep thought, you were fairly sure you had a crush on him, or at least you would if you knew more about him. You wanted to be closer to him, but could never find the right moments. The two of you were never alone together, and even if you ended up beside each other, you never gave the other all of your attention. Through nerves or awkwardness you weren't really sure.

You didn't feel as though you had the right to call him a friend, and calling him and acquaintance seemed too cold. So, he was just Seungmin, the guy who had a place in your heart you couldn't quite understand.

Seungmin, though never showing it, felt exactly the same about you.

Ever since you became friends with everyone, he felt drawn to you, but always remained distant. Your presence almost comforted him, and he enjoyed seeing you. But he never showed it, barely even ever acknowledging you other than brief conversation or jokes, and he wasn't sure why.

Was he shy around you? Maybe. Did something about you make him uncomfortable? No, that's not it. He was comfortable around you, more so than he showed. He liked you. But he wasn't sure in what way.

There were times he would purposefully sit beside you, or walk near you, hoping maybe something would naturally bring you together after that. But any time the two of you almost started talking, or getting to know one another, something got in the middle. As if it wasn't meant to be.

Seungmin didn't understand what you were to him, but he wanted to figure it out.

So, he started to pay a bit more attention to you, focusing on the things you mentioned you liked and disliked. The more he did, the more he realized you two had in common. How had he not known you had the same favorite music, and shows, and books? Similar hobbies, or thoughts on the world. With every new fact he learned, the more he realized you were practically the different side of the same coin.

Was this why you never got close, yet were always comfortable around each other? You were akin to one another in more ways than he expected, was this why everyone said opposites attract? The more similar you are the more distance existed between you?

No matter how much Seungmin thought about it, the less it made sense. In his mind, he felt the two of you should be friends, maybe even best-friends, or more, yet you were....nothing? Not friends, not strangers, not even acquaintances really. You were an enigma in his life, that he truly wanted to figure out.

On days like this, what you wanted was to smile and laugh. So, you often made use of your friends for a distraction.

Your legs were heavy with the exhaustion of the day as you walked down the hall towards the boys apartments.

Knocking on Felix's apartment, you waited, but heard no answer. Pouting you pulled out your phone and texted Felix asking if he was home. Leaning against the wall, you let out a soft sigh after a few minutes. Trying the other apartment next door, and also receiving no reply you stood in the hall for a minute wondering what to do. The last thing you wanted was to head back to your own apartment. Your roommate was the last person you wanted to see.

You had no issues with each other, but she was overwhelming, especially on days like today. When nothing seemed to work out or make sense and all you wanted was to relax.

Rummaging through your bag you pulled out the spare key Felix had given you. You hesitated to go in, wondering if it might annoy them. I mean, they all said you could have it, even Seungmin gave a nod of agreement when Felix offered the key. You were at their apartments more often than not anymore anyways.

Sending the group chat a message warning them you were there, you made your way inside. You called out to see if there was indeed no one home. The apartment was silent and you made your way to the couch.

Flipping on the television you laid your head back and stared up at the ceiling. The day running through your mind again, only causing your heart to race with annoyance and stress all over again.

Groaning you looked around the apartment. Why did they all have to be gone today of all days?

Your eyes caught on a blanket on the edge of the couch. You recognized it as Seungmin's. Gently grabbing it and pulling it to you, you found yourself bringing it to your face. It smelled like Seungmin, a scent you had picked up on whenever he walked past, or sat beside you. As your heart fluttered you came back to your senses, looking around the apartment as if you might get caught. Your face was hot as you gently ran your hands over the soft fabric.

Lying down on the couch, and pulling the blanket over you. you stared at the television, not really watching, just zoning out. Having to wake up a few hours early to go to work today, your exhaustion was palpable. Slowly, you began drifting to sleep, forgetting you were trying to wait up for the boys.

When Seungmin came back from practice, the last thing he was expecting when he walked into the apartment was a guest.

His eyes landed on your familiar pair of shoes and he rose his brow in surprise, his heart palpitating. He knew he was the first one home as the others had more things to do at the studio before heading home as well.

You came and went as you please, and though Seungmin sometimes made comments as if it annoyed him, or making fun of the fact you basically live here to the others. He always liked when you were around, especially more so recently as his fondness and desire to know you grew.

Walking into the apartment, his eyes found you immediately. Seungmin seemed to forget how to breath as he saw your slumbering figure on the couch. As he watched you in silence, he was unaware of the fond smile that stretched across his face.

Softly and quietly, Seungmin set his stuff down before walking over to you. Kneeling down in front of the couch he noticed his blanket draped over your legs and his heart skipped a beat. Grabbing it, he gently adjusted the blanket so it covered more of you.

As he stared at you, he wondered why you came to the apartment when it was empty, and he couldn't help but worry something bad had happened. Wondering if the others knew you were here, he pulled out his phone, noticing a few texts to the group chat. Opening it, he saw your messages from almost an hour ago.

He felt guilty that you went unnoticed and received no replies. The way you spoke in the group chat was slightly off, making him assume he was correct. Something did happen.

Looking back at your slumbering face he let out a soft sigh. In moments like this, where Seungmin was looking at you, often when you didn't realize it, he always felt that same sense of regret. He regretted never getting closer to you.

He couldn't even call himself your friend without doubting it. But he desperately wanted to be more than whatever he was to you.

He really did admire you, he liked your presence, and your company. But he didn't acknowledge it enough. And he often wondered now, what things would be like between you if he did.

Would there be a chance to be more?

Seungmin sat on the floor by the couch for a while, keeping you company even if you weren't aware of his presence.

Suddenly hearing the sound of the others at the end of the building hall, Seungmin felt a sense of panic. He didn't want their loud voices and to wake you.

Without really thinking, he found himself scooping you gently into his arms and carrying you to his room.

Setting you down on his bed, you mumbled a bit as you readjusted. He stared at you with wide eyes for a moment before he let out a soft sigh, glad you had not fully woken.

Quickly going back out and grabbing your things from the living room as the others were unlocking the door, he escaped to his room before they entered.

Why was he being so secretive about your presence? They would eventually see your texts and wonder where you were, right? All he had to say is you were sleeping and tell them to be quiet.

Looking at you once more, now cuddling up to one of his pillows, he admitted to himself it was selfish. A selfish need to be the only one to see you like this.

As the apartment quieted down, the others escaping to their rooms, Seungmin gently settled on the bed beside you, sitting up against the headboard as he scrolled on his phone. Every once and a while he would steal a glance at you, checking to see if you were still asleep.

Eventually some of the others replied to your messages, asking when you went home. Seungmin wasn't sure if he should tell them you were asleep in his room or not. Should he just wait? Leaning his head back against the headboard as he thought about it, he fell victim to sleep before he knew it.

When you finally found yourself waking, you were confused to find yourself in a bed. Looking around in confusion, your heart jolted as you saw Seungmin beside you. His head leaned to the side as he slept.

Looking around again, you realized you were in Seungmin's room. You had never been in here before, but it was easy to see it was his, even if he wasn't beside you.

Why would he bring you in here? Had the others come back, was that why? So you didn't get woken up?

Your heart raced at the thoughts passing through your mind. Looking back over at him, you admired his sleeping face as butterflies swirled through your stomach.

Deciding he must be uncomfortable, you gently shook his shoulder, causing him to wake up. As his eyes met yours he sat upright, suddenly nervous. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, nor had he thought far enough ahead to know what to say when you woke up.

"Ah, you're awake."

You nodded as you sat up, "Did you bring me in here?"

Seungmin swallowed nervously as he nodded. "You seemed to be pretty tired and when the others came back I didn't want them to wake you."

You smiled at him and his heart flipped.

"Thank you."

"Did something happen today?"

Your heart skipped at the question. Was it obvious? You bit your lips lightly and nodded as you picked at the blanket still draped over you, "Long day."

He nodded softly, watching you. As you noticed how dark it appeared outside you sat up. "Oh... I should probably go, it looks like its pretty late."

Seungmin realized you were right, you had both slept until after sunset. He shook his head softly, speaking before really thinking.

"Its too late, you should just stay the night."

You stared at him for a second as your heart raced. "Stay...here?" He nodded silently. You added on shyly, "Would that....be okay?"

He nodded again before clearing his throat softly. "I wouldn't feel right letting you go home this late by yourself."

After a moments contemplation, you nodded. "If you're okay with it, I am."

He replied quickly, almost too quickly. "I am."

"Do you want me to sleep on the floor?"

He let out a soft laugh, "No, just stay there. The bed's big enough."

The air was a little tense as the two of you settled back into the bed. You were hyper-aware of how close Seungmin was now, you were back to back, but still close. And as nervous as this made you, you still felt yourself giving into sleep again.

Seungmin's heart was beating unevenly as he lied still beside you. He was filled with a mixture of giddiness, anxiety and disbelief. How had you gone to distant friends of sorts, to sleeping in the same bed?

The silence hung in the air until you both drifted to sleep. Both of you feeling that something had changed between you suddenly. You weren't sure what yet, but you were excited to find out.

As the soft morning light peaked through the windows, you kept your eyes closed as you embraced the comfort around you. Recalling where you were, your heart raced a little as you slowly opened your eyes.

Your heart jolted as you realized you and Seungmin were now facing each other, faces only a few inches apart. His hand was gently gripped your sleeve, as if he wanted to keep you close.

You swallowed nervously as you stared at him. You had the overwhelming desire to trace your fingers along his face as he slumbered peacefully. You took a few minutes to admire him, noticing every mark and spot on his features you hadn't before.

After some time, you realized how it might seem if the others woke up and you were here. That might not be a conversation Seungmin would want to have to deal with. Plus, would things be awkward between you if he woke up and found himself latching onto you?

Slowly, and gently, you pried your sleeve from his grip and climbed out of his bed. As he moved and mumbled a few times you froze, fearing he would wake up and find you practically straddling him as you tried to get out of the bed.

Finally managing to get out of the bed without waking him, you grabbed a sticky note and pen off of is desk and wrote on it, before sticking it to the pillow beside Seungmin.

You didn't want to linger in case things got awkward, but you did want him to know how grateful you were of his kindness. Sparing one more glance at him, your heart fluttered as you grabbed your things and silently left the apartment. As you left, you knew Seungmin was going to occupy your thoughts a lot more now.

Seungmin stretched as he woke up, before he suddenly remembered your presence. His eyes shot open as he looked beside him, seeing just an empty bed. Sitting up, he felt a sense of disappointment at your absence, before his eyes spotted the sticky note.

Picking it up, he read it over a few times, a small smile growing on his face.

'I wasn't sure if I should stay or not, but I didn't want things to be awkward with the others if they saw me here still. Thank you for letting me stay and being so nice to me, after the day I had I appreciated it more than you know. I'll see you later Seungmin. - Y/n'

Looking back to wear you had been laying, he recalled waking in the middle of the night to find you facing him, the moonlight from outside illuminating you in an almost ethereal light. He couldn't stop himself from gently tracing your features with his fingers, barely brushing your skin as not to wake you. He watched you for some time, before eventually falling asleep again.

Lying back down with a sigh, he pulled the blanket you had been using over him, your scent filling his nose as he did. Pulling it closer, he inhaled the scent and felt butterflies in his stomach.

He understood now, he did have feelings for you. You weren't friends, perhaps because the feeling that had gone unnoticed stopped him. But he wanted to be closer to you now, to explore the possiblities of what you could be.

Reading over your note again he decided he would do better, do more to get closer to you.

Before you knew what to say to the others, Felix had texted you asking if you were doing alright. Seungmin had told them that you had fallen asleep at their apartment, and that he let you sleep in his room so you were disturbed by the others.

You could tell he had not told them you stayed the night, or that he had carried you to his room himself. Things you wondered if he kept a secret to spare you from possible teasing, or if he wanted it just between the two of you.

The next time you saw Seungmin was when you were invited over to their place for game-night a few days later. When you arrived, Seungmin answered the door. And instead of his usual soft smile in greeting, he grinned at you, taking your bag from you as you slipped off your shoes.

His behavior towards you was more open and bright, and obvious to not just you, but the others. He asked you if you wanted a drink, before leaving to get you one before you could even answer. You looked over and saw the guys watching in amusement as they looked at you with a questioning gaze.

You shrugged your shoulders, as your heart fluttered, wondering if he really did feel the change between you that night like you had. Maybe you hadn't imagined it at all.

Throughout the night, you and the others were confused, yet intrigued by Seungmin's behavior towards you. He sat beside you, talking to you more often and open than he ever had. He brought you food and offered you a blanket, his blanket, when he thought you might get cold.

When he went to the bathroom Han turned towards you and began interrogating you. "Are you guys dating?"

"What?" You asked startled, "No!"

"I think he wants to though." Hyunjin added with a smirk making you throw a piece of popcorn at him.

Your eyes met Felix's and he smiled brightly before he leaned closer and spoke to you, "I always thought he had a crush on you and now I know he does."

You shush them before you sat back on the couch, ignoring their teasing gazes as Seungmin came back into the room. As he sat beside you, he grabbed the blanket on you and moved to cover himself as well, covered the two of you at the same time, side by side. Your heart jolted as butterflies filled your stomach.

When it came time for you to go home, you felt nervous as Seungmin lingered by the door as you slid on your shoes. You had said goodbye to the others and grabbed your bag. Seeing Seungmin slip on his jacket you rose your brow in question. Was he going out?

He met your eyes. "I'm gonna walk you home." His tone came out as though it was obvious what he was going to do.

"O-oh, okay." You smiled, your chest fluttering anxiously.

The two of you were silent until you walked out of the apartment and made your way down the familiar street you walked dozens of times.

Seungmin inhaled the cool breeze as he walked beside you, his arm almost brushing yours as he kept very little distance between the two of you.

"Thank you for walking me home. You didn't have too, but I appreciate it." You said softly and Seungmin nodded with a smile.

"I don't have too, but I want too." He said softly, his tone almost shy.

Your eyes met for a moment before you both quickly looked away. Silence lingered between you for a few moments as you saw Seungmin steal a few quick glances at you.

Slowly, you started talking, awkward small talk turning into casual comfortable conversation. Your steps slowed as you got closer, absent-mindedly wanting your walk to last as long as you could make it.

When you finally reached your apartment, you turned to Seungmin with a kind smile. "Thanks again for walking me home. Be careful on your way back."

He nodded with a smile, "I will."

As you started to turn and walk away Seungmin quickly spoke up. "Wait!"

Turning back to him he swallowed nervously as he fidgeted. "I was wondering if you were free tomorrow."

Your heart jolted as you bit the inside of your lip and nodded. "I am."

"Its smoothie day." He noted on and you realized what he meant.

Once every other week you and a few of the others would go get smoothies at a shop you all fell in love with a couple years ago.

Seungmin rarely went, so it was a pleasant surprise he was going this time. But underneath that, there was a mild disappointment. For a moment, you thought he may be asking you on a date.

You felt a soft disappointment in your chest as you nodded, "Right! I almost forgot" You chuckled softly. "I'll be there."

He nodded "Good." As he took a a few steps back, he motioned for you to head inside as he smiled, "Goodnight."

You smiled and waved softly in return, "Goodnight Seungmin."

As you headed inside, you felt an odd mixture of emotion. Excitement, bewilderment, bashfulness, all of it making you finally truly acknowledge something you had only allowed yourself momentary thoughts of. You definitely, had feelings for Seungmin.

You hoped the others wouldn't notice or point out how you seemed to dress up a little bit more today. You accepted your feelings for Seungmin had grown, though you weren't sure what to do about it.

Though his changed behavior towards you made you think he felt the same, you still feared maybe he had just finally accepted you as a friend. So you didn't want to get your hopes up too much.

As you approached the familiar smoothie spot, your phone buzzed. Reading the message from Felix you furrowed your brow in confusion.

'Enjoy your smoothies ;)'

'Okay, so Felix isn't coming, but what's with the winky face?' You wondered as you headed inside.

Looking around, your heart fluttered as you spotted Seungmin waiting nearby at a table. Looking around more, you saw none of the others, and suddenly realized what Felix's text meant. Did they all stand you up so you'd be alone together?

Swallowing nervously you walked over to him, your stomach filling with butterflies.

Looking up, Seungmin smiled before standing up quickly and pulling a chair out for you.

You smiled in thanks as you sat down. "No one else is coming?" You asked casually, trying not to show your nervousness.

Seungmin sat down and shook his head, appearing a bit nervous as well. "I actually asked them not to come."

"Oh?" Your heart jolted as your eyes widened a bit.

He met your eyes and smiled softly, obviously nervous now. "I kind of hoped we could make this a date...if you're okay with that."

You were silent for a brief moment as you processed what he said. unable to resist smiling you nodded, "I'm okay with it."

Seungmin studied you for a second before he grinned, relief washing over him. "Good. I- I really wanted to get closer to you, I mean I have for a while, but since...since that night you fell asleep at the apartment, I uh- I feel like..." He struggled to get out what he wanted to say as he let out a soft breath.

"Something changed?"

He met your eyes, a bit startled that you understood what he was trying to say. He nodded mutely and you smiled, "I felt it too."

You smiled softly at each other for a moment before you let out a soft chuckle. "It's kind of weird right?"

He chucked as he ran his hands nervously over his legs and nodded. "Yeah. I've never really knew where we stood."

You nodded, "Right? I wasn't sure if we were friends or what, but..."

"But?"

You tried to search for the right words, "But, I always felt comfortable around you, and wanted to be friends we just never seemed to get there."

He nodded in agreement. "That's how I felt too."

You both chuckled as you both understood you had more in common than you thought.

Seungmin started, slowly. "I think... I've been attracted to you since we met. I just didn't recognize it completely. And that stopped me from really getting closer to you even though I wanted too. But that night, I finally realized just how much I want to be around you."

Your heart was pounding as he spoke, your neck and face warm. "So now, we're...what?"

He thought for a second before chuckled, "I don't really know how to label it."

You resisted giggling as you hummed, "We don't have to label anything yet, but I do like where we are headed."

He nodded slowly, "Me too."

Slowly moving his chair closer to you, he cautiously moved his hands to intertwine with yours.

"So how about we start here? We are more or less than friends, with intentions to be more."

Your eyes moved from your intertwined hands to his eyes as you smiled brightly. "How poetic." You giggled, "I like it."

He squeezed your hand softly as he grinned at you, finally relieved knowing where he wanted to go with you, and how to start.

xx End xx

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[adorekento]

A Reward

NSFW : office sex, secretary x ceo, humiliation, dominance, cockwarming, teasing, fingering, exhibitionism, praise, teasing, pet names, riding, cursing, degradation, penetration, etc.

[ male ver. ] — Al Haitham, Ayato, Dainsleif, Diluc, & Tartaglia

│ AL HAITHAM

doing something nasty with your boss was something you never thought would ever happen to you in your lifetime of work at a publishing company, especially in your life as a bitter individual, but here we are, with the most recent edition in progress. you felt your stomach flip whenever he would thrust up his cock inside you further, the warmth radiating off his body seeping into yours, and that one thing you had always been discreetly craving for came right back again.

it's funny how all those sexual thoughts about him that you have never really let yourself admit to anyone, in particular, come rushing to mind when you think about what it might be like to fuck him, to have sex with him, it’s almost enough to make you feel ashamed from your desires.

"S-Sir... Please..." you begged him, and though it was difficult for you not to plead with him since he liked edging and teasing you like this to get you into positions where you would just do what he said or say something he wanted you to, you pushed your best to the limit to withstand him.

"Can't even wait until I finish my work, huh? Like a naughty thing you are, entering my office without even knocking first." He whispered seductively, You bit your lip, hoping you didn't make things worse for yourself by refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry... I-It won't happen again... I... Was just in hurry to- to get the work done as fast as p-possible so you'd get off early, s-sir..." you explained, your voice quivering and barely audible, but you were doing everything you could to hide how flustered and embarrassed you were at that moment. You didn't want to seem weak before him, it would only make him more determined to have you as his cocksleeve,

He hummed in reply, and you heard the shuffling of papers behind you, "So what? You want me to award you or something for doing that? I never asked you to rush the work, but if you must insist on having your head held down, then I can't deny you this." he told you. You gulped and looked at him sheepishly, You weren't exactly sure what he meant, but you knew for a fact that you wouldn't refuse anything he asked, especially if it involved getting to kiss him or touch him, you just couldn't help yourself sometimes, you had fallen hard for him. "if you can wait for me to finish this, who knows? I might even consider rewarding you."

│ KAMISATO AYATO

The sound of skins clapping and your wails are the only voices that permeate the room. You’ve lost trail of time after all this. In a way, You wouldn't lie, it was kind of nice though, being so immersed in the sensation of someone else or rather your 'boss' who's doing you to such a great extent that it leaves you feeling like a mess.

The chimes that come out of your mouth were loud enough to drown out any thoughts and doubts that might come to the surface, even if you try not to think about them at all. You're not certain how long you've been laying there with your hands clutched together, but all you could think at the moment is how much satisfaction he had given your body from the inside.

"You've been working pretty hard, (y/n)," You felt an arm caress your waist, Ayato pressed his lips against your neck. "And for that, You deserve a reward." His lips move to smooch your skin as he speaks to you, sending shivers down your spine every time. It's almost like he knows precisely what you feel and how to please your body just right, leaving you unable to move on your pact.

the way his cock moved inside your tight walls while he fucked you into thoughtlessness and made you enjoy the moment better... It made your heart beat faster, He was so fine, the way he would move with his lips on your neck and his cock into you made everything more severe than it should have been.

"A-Ayato~" you couldn't help but whine loudly when he started moving slowly in and out of you from behind. The oscillations of his hips against your own caused warmness to pool between your legs, stretching out through your whole body and making you want more. He groaned and bit your earlobe. "Normally, I'd be furious for you calling me by my name informally just like that, but today I'm just too busy here to care," Ayato said in between heavy pants. Your mind went blank as you felt him hit that particular spot, causing you to arch up and let out another moan that sounded less like a word and more like a plea.

│ DAINSLEIF, & DILUC

you were always curious about his reputation, in fact, you never get how your workmates are drawn into him! He was all cold and mysterious, always working at his desk and barely interacting with his employees. But then again, there is no shortage of people who are frigid and bizarre, to begin with. You know this. everyone was envious of you for being taken the yield of as his 'assistant' but that's just how things are between the two of you. It's not like he behaves toward you differently or anything, it's just that you can see right through the facade he puts up when it comes to his emotions toward others.

so now it's all weird to say that you're giving your boss the best day ever, How did it happen? it was because you had an argument with him and now with his dick inside your mouth, it felt really good, especially when you heard some sounds coming from his pretty lips. He sounded like he was having trouble controlling himself and you thought he would stop you but he didn't. so that's when your brain finally clicked. you were both horny, and the only way to relieve that pain would be to do something to each other.

but no, you were being disciplined for speaking disrespectfully toward him, and now would you even call this punishment? giving him a head like this makes you feel incredible, especially when your hands roam around his body, touching what you could brush. you don’t know how to describe his body, he has a ton of muscles that move with every movement he makes. it’s all amazing to you. you wish this feeling will last permanently because right now you think you could fall asleep with this man's cock inside your mouth, your lips wrapped around his shaft.

you’ve been sighing softly and he seems to be getting a kick out of this too. maybe he finds it as arousing as you do, maybe he's aware of what you want, or maybe he doesn’t give a damn either. you don’t know but he seems to be getting more impatient, and soon his hand is on your hair, pulling slightly so you open up further to take a better hold of his cock. “oh... your mouth... Fuck” he mutters breathlessly before thrusting into your throat harder than before. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the second and you don’t think that’s fair because this isn’t even fucking you yet.

the noises he makes and how his dick slides into your mouth smoothly feel like heaven in the best way possible. he’s almost completely out of breath by now and looks like he might collapse any moment. you have him now, your fingers tightly wrapped around his shaft, pumping him with your mouth as hard as you can just to earn his forgiveness.

| TARTAGLIA

Your tight walls hugged his cock as if they were the very walls of your heart. Your hands held resting on his shoulder with your weight as you pressed your body onto him. You rode him hard until he cried out in euphoria. His face was buried in your neck, his hair was soft, and his scent was intoxicating.

He felt you squeezing his hips to keep his cock deep inside of you. He was aching for discharge, you could sense it. But the instant his hand wrapped around your waist, you gasped. His touch left an ice-cold trail across your back. The way his fingers traced circles on your skin made you shudder. He had that effect on you that no one else ever could. It was so powerful, so captivating. It wasn’t until that moment that you realized how much you liked this.

You like all of the noises he's making, the feeling of your thighs against each other, the roughness of your bare legs digging into his chest. You're sure that it makes him think of other things too when you're fucking him, but you don't mind at all. There's just something about having someone so passionate about sex, but so careful with everything else as well. "You're so tight..." he groaned, It's like you're in sync with each other, both of you moving in perfect tandem. You want to be as close to him as possible. So when he touches your shoulders or your ass, you let go and take his hand wherever you can reach. And that feels good. You love his big strong hands roaming over you. They are bigger than your own but softer. Like when he caresses you from behind, his touch lingers as it travels upwards.

"Not only were you good at seducing others," he says, "But you also knew what you were doing." His breath tickles your ear and you shiver. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of your hole has you moaning softly. It seems like the only thing that sounds louder than your breathing, and that alone makes you crave more. Your body aches for more. Your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the feeling of having him inside you. You move your hips up again and again, pushing yourself against him as if trying to draw every bit of his cock into you. It drives both of you insane. All of it. Everything.

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[devildomditzy]

"Are we going to talk about this?"

You watch as 'your demon' strides across his room, sitting down roughly on his couch and staring straight ahead, unable to look in your direction.

'Your demon". Did you even have the right to call him that? After you've been away for so long?

It's been a week since you and Solomon returned unannounced from your journey to the past, much to the shock and surprise of everyone. That night was filled with joy and tears and laughter from everyone. Everyone, except the second born. The person you absolutely missed the most for months and months, the person you thought of during sleepless nights and difficult times. The person you cried over more than anyone else was standing right there, just a few feet away -

And absolutely giving you the cold shoulder.

He's silent for a moment, before his voice comes out like vitriol, scalding and snide, yet somehow so hollow, like his words had no real emphasis behind them. Like he felt almost nothing.

"What's there left to talk about?"

"Mammon-", you try to get a word in before he cuts you off with the same version of the monologue you've heard from him even since you made your way back to this timeline.

Your timeline.

"Ya left me here. Ya left us here. You didn't leave a note or a sign or even shoot me a text that you were goin'. Nothin'. Nada."

"You know I didn't exactly choose to get taken to the past against my will, Mammon."

He stands to face you now, tone filled with pain but his face looking so, so emotionless.

It could scare you, when he gets like this. The second born should never look that serious.

"And how would I know that? Huh? How would I know where you went? How the hell would I know what ya'd gotten up to, huh? How would I know if you were runnin' off with Solomon? How would I know that ya didn't just get sick of us?"

His voice raises his voice as he walks towards you.

"How would I know if ya were alive, or dead, or somewhere in between, huh!?"

You're jostled as the second born grabs your shoulders and shoves you, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to have you cornered between the surface and himself.

"I never stopped trying, okay? Not a day went by that Solomon and I didn't look for a way home, a way out, a way to you, anything!" you exclaim, defending yourself from his tirade.

"How would I know that you were gonna come back!? How would- H-how could ya, I couldn't...I-I-I- can't...."

His voice shakes as he balls up his fists into the fabric of your shirt, his true emotions finally shining through after a week of trying to get through to him.

How quickly his indifference turns to fear.

Tears begin silently falling from his lash line, streaking his cheeks.

"Oh, Mammon...", you wrap your arms around him, following his lead as his body begins to crumple, both of you sitting on the floor.

"I thought you were gone. I-I didn't know if ya were still breathin', or just vanished, but I thought-"

He gulps down a few tears and lets out a shaky breath before finishing.

"I thought you were never coming back."

You respond to him in kind, holding him tighter as he increases his grasp on you.

You can't help but let out a small giggle as you wipe away his tears (and a few of your own).

"Babe, it's me we're talking about. I came back to the Devildom how many times now?"

"Yeah," he sighs, looking off to the side, remembering all the times you somehow managed to extend your stays within the exchange program with Diavolo's blessing.

"I can't believe you gave up on me that fast", you tease, poking his cheek.

"Never did", he mumbles. "Looked for ya every day until I realized.. ya just weren't here. And not like here like in the Devildom, okay? I mean like here here."

He's quiet for a moment before he grumbles again, "Didn't stop lookin' until Lucifer made me, that bastard."

You bust out laughing, "I missed you, and your cute little complaints"

"Hey! My complaints ain't little! I'd burn down all three realms if it meant I coulda found you again!"

You place a quick kiss to his cheek, giggling at the way he goes rigid.

"Well, you don't have to worry. I'll always find my way back to you."

[weemsfreak]

Surprise

Larissa Weems x fReader

Larissa hasn't been herself lately, and to make things worse, she's nearing 50.

Happy ending, ~3.9k words

Warnings: Suicidal ideation, depressed and tired Larissa

You knocked on the large wooden doors to the principals office, awaiting the sound of a voice that would bless your ears. It was the middle of the school day, she had to be here. When no response came, you decided you'd try the handle, and you walked in unexpectedly being greeted by nobody.

You made your way cautiously to the desk, which held nothing on its surface- except for a calendar.

December 2023

Tuesday - 'Rogers birthday'

Friday -'My birthday'

You weren't surprised that Larissa was keeping track of birthdays, she was in charge of planning them, after all. When a staff member at Nevermore had a birthday, Larissa would plan a social for the end of the work day. Like today for instance, you would soon be heading for cake, a little gift for roger, and perhaps a few drinks with the other teachers. Oddly enough though, you hadn't heard mention of a social on Friday. You focused on the calendar slot where Larissa had written 'My birthday'. December 8th, you committed to memory, that was her birthday.

Rogers party was enjoyable. The cake was rather yummy, and the staff had a few laughs together. "So, any more birthdays coming up soon? I could go for another cake" Roger joked after thanking Larissa for the party. Larissa tilted her head in thought, "Um, no. Not until next month." Some teachers let out a sarcastic huff of disappointment, but you took in the woman before you, confused.

Her face told you otherwise, it told you that she had lied, rather well, but not well enough.

Her face told a story, that maybe only you could read, of sadness, rejection, and loneliness. Perhaps Larissa didn't like the attention, or perhaps she didn't like parties. Perhaps she was scared of getting older, many people were.

You have only recently, about four months ago, became part of the Nevermore family, but you were quick to feel accepted and become enamoured with the woman. You and Larissa weren't very close, but that was likely because you were far too shy around her. Still, you thought that Larissa deserved to celebrate, she deserved to celebrate herself.

When the social came to an end, you pulled Vlad aside and asked if he had ever attended a celebration for Larissa's birthday, to which he shook his head no, and said that he was sure it was in the summer, because nobody had ever mentioned it.

That night you did a little digging. Probably, most likely, definitely too much digging. Did you go too far with things? Sometimes. But this was important, this was important to you.

You called your friend who worked for the United States government. "You want to know someone's birthday, huh? What are you doing, planning a party?" You laughed, why else would you want to know someone's birthday? "Larissa Marie Weems. Yes, I found it. Born in England, came to the United States in 1989-" "Okay Bri, I don't need her whole history" you interrupted. "Sorry, sorry. Her birthday is December 8th, 1973. Well, according to her file, anyway" she chuckled. You thanked your friend before hanging up and getting to work.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Larissa had not been herself lately. Weather it was due to her slow recovery, the betrayal of a supposed friend last year, the school being in shambles until some months ago, or her blatant loneliness, she didn’t know. Perhaps it was everything. She had not been herself since, well, since when? Who was she, exactly?

The headmistress of Nevermore, the girl who stayed in the same place mentally, and also physically, most of her life? The girl who loved, and lost, but was never loved back, was never lost in return. The girl who studied, excelled, travelled, and then came back. The girl who stayed, she was always the girl who stayed.

And now she was a woman, nearing 50, who still stayed. She stayed in her mind, full of trauma, deaths, and, you guessed it, more trauma. She stayed in her school, in her home, which was starting to feel, unsafe? Unlike a home, unlike her. She stayed in her thoughts, which were heartbreakingly also starting to feel unsafe.

Ah yes, she was nearing 50. And after all of these years, so, so many years, she thought that she may have a friend by now. A real friend, perhaps a partner. Someone who didn't abandon her willingly, or die on her unwillingly. Someone who wouldn't try to kill her for their own benefit.

She didn't know, had no clue actually, what she would do, what she could do, to get someone to like her. What was so wrong with her, she thought. What was so wrong with her that nobody liked her? She wasn't ugly, although she could be insecure. She could be scary, mean, authoritative, it was her job, her demeanour. But, she could also be sweet, loving, kind, caring, helpful, she knew that she was all of those things.

Deep down, she knew. Deep, deep down, she knew she wanted to love, she had SO much love to give. Alas, it seemed nobody wanted to give it back. So, she spent her years taking care of the younger generation, hoping and praying that none of them would turn out like she had. Depressed, lonely, full of defeat, trauma, self hatred and, love. She spent her time trying to bury her thoughts in work, in late nights, in wine, under a façade, but deep, deep down, she wanted out. She no longer wanted to be the one who stayed.

She stared at the calendar which was now on her coffee table, haunting her as she downed another glass of red. December 8th, a day that her mother had brought her into this world, this nasty, cruel, unforgiving, hateful world. This beautiful, tearjerking, progressive, lovely world. December 8th, the day that her family rarely celebrated. December 8th, the day that she rarely celebrated. God she loved that day, and at the same time, she absolutely resented it. She really, really dreaded that day, for it was a day that Morticia had ignored and belittled.

____________________________________________________________________________________

December 6th, 1990

"Happy Birthday Tish!" Larissa smiled, greeting Morticia in the quad at lunch. "Thank you Issa" Morticia replied, wrapping her arms around the taller girl. Larissa held a small box out to Morticia, "I got you something." Morticia took the box and sat down, Larissa sat across from her. Morticia opened the box and found a small black bracelet that Larissa had made especially for her. The beads were made of obsidian and onyx, with an 'M' placed in the middle. Morticia slipped it on and took Larissa's hand, "Thank you Issa" she said, as she blew her a kiss. Morticia then turned her attention to Gomez and a few other girls at the table. "So, I was thinking Saturday, we invite everyone to my room and then down to the quad for my birthday celebration!" Gomez agreed, and the other girls quickly followed up with fun things that they could do to celebrate. "Tish?" Larissa spoke quietly. "Cara Mia?" Morticia replied. "My birthday is Saturday, remember?" Morticia's eyebrows furrowed before she faked an expression of surprise. "Oh, right. Well, can you celebrate Sunday? Or another day?" Larissa looked down to her lap and fidgeted with her hands as she pondered Morticia's words. Another day? But her birthday was actually on Saturday, Morticia's wasn't. "Well, can't you celebrate yours tonight?" Morticia laughed, "No Larissa, Thursday isn't a good day for a party." Larissa nodded in agreement, although she didn't actually agree. Larissa smiled as she came up with a great idea. "Well, can we merge our parties on Saturday? We can celebrate together!" Morticia frowned at this idea, why would she want to share her party? "I think we should celebrate separate love, we can have two parties. Mine will be Saturday, and yours can be Sunday." Morticia went back to planning her party with the others as Larissa sat there in silence and defeat. She knew that nobody would want to celebrate on Sunday after having a big party on Saturday, she knew that nobody would come, not for her.

As it was, Saturday Larissa celebrated Morticia in their dorm, but rejected following them down into the quad. Some people wished Larissa a happy birthday, but Morticia, did not. Larissa celebrated that night, alone in her room with a hot chocolate and a pastry. "Happy birthday to me" she whispered, as she blew out a candle and let smoke fill the empty room.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Yes, December 8th was a day for Larissa, and perhaps that's why she felt dread. She was nearing 50, in 3 days, to be precise, and all she wished for was, well, was to die.

She wished that her mother never had her, she wished that she had not lived through everything she had, alone, so utterly alone. She wished that it wasn't a day that she could resent, she wished that it wasn't a day that Morticia could make her hate. She wished that it wasn't a day at all, for maybe it didn't have to be.

Oh how ironic it would be, to perish the same day on which you were born. Like Shakespeare, letting every word she had said become nothing, and every word she had never spoken become something. It would send a message, but to whom? To whom did Larissa have to send a message? And so close to Christmas, at that.

Larissa loved Christmas, well, she used to. It was so warm, so cozy, so breathtaking, so…heartbreaking. She didn't have a family, but perhaps if she did, she might actually come to like her birthday, the winter, the holidays. She might drink hot chocolate and sit by the fire and feel safe, she might feel okay, she might feel loved. She might not sit at the Weathervane alone, as everyone went back home for the holidays. She might not sit in her office by the fire, downing red and eating cookies that she baked herself, by herself. She might not walk through the snowy filled streets and let the glow of the artificial lights wash over her with tears in her eyes and nobody by her side. She might not stare down at the snow and see herself as a child, building a snowman and smashing her friend in the face with a snowball. She might not loathe the fact that she was who she was, and the fact that she was born on December 8th. Because when it all came down to it, her birthday, Christmas, and every single other day of the year, time was time. Time was fake, time was long, time was tears, and time was wrong. Time meant nothing, if she allowed it to mean nothing.

Yet she didn't, she allowed it to mean something. She let it mean something. She let it make her wish that she hadn't been here, that she wasn't here now.

That night she pondered over life, and death, and she came to the conclusion that she wasn't who she once was, nor was she who people were led to believe. She came to the conclusion that Nevermore would suffer without her, without their headmistress. But, she had one wish, one birthday wish.

Let it, she thought, let it suffer, for she has suffered enough for everyone. ___________________________________________________________________________________

When Friday, December 8th came, Larissa awoke with a heavy heart. She sat up in her bed as tears fell like bricks into her lap, and her hands trembled as she knew what they would soon be capable of.

Still, she went throughout her day as Principal, one last time. She greeted the students in the hallways, one last time. She made sure that her affairs and the schools affairs were in order, one last time. She shapeshifted and walked through the school, taking in everything that she could, one last time. And, she cried over Morticia's photo, one last time.

She settled down in front of the fire with a glass of wine in her hand and a hot chocolate, indulging one last time. It was only 4 in the afternoon, but she was tired, she was so incredibly tired.

She closed her eyes and laid her head back on the sofa as she thought about her birthday. Nobody had wished her happy birthday, nobody knew it was her birthday, nobody except you. But she didn't know that you knew, and as she thought about dying on the same date that she was born, she smiled, for nobody would know.

"Larissa!" you almost screamed, barging into her office frantically. Her eyes opened in a panic as she shot her wide gaze to you. You almost lost your act as you took her in, sitting on the sofa with wine and hot chocolate. Her office was clean, cleaner than usual, and she looked so tired, had she been crying? It was only quarter after 4, what was she doing?

"We have a problem, follow me!" you said in a hurry, ushering her up and out of her office. Larissa followed behind you as your pace quickened, and she rolled her eyes at the thought of having to deal with one of Nevermore's problems, one last time.

As she followed you through the halls, she watched your pace slow and your worry fade. You ended up walking beside her, and taking her hand in yours. Part of your brain told you that she might not follow, that she might know that there was no problem and run away. Part of your brain told you that maybe she didn’t at all want to celebrate, and that she would reject the surprise party and leave in tears.

Still, you held her hand as you stared up at her, your panicked act fading into a large smile. Larissa was so confused as to why you were holding her hand, and smiling at her? She looked down at your no longer panicked face and her eyes met yours, they were, admiring? You looked happy, joyful, loving, and maybe, maybe you were hiding something.

As you both neared the staff room Larissa stopped dead in her tracks. "What is the problem?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows at you. "It’s in here, come" you said, slowly opening the door to the staff room. You walked in slightly, enough to be able to turn on the lights, and Larissa stepped beside you. "I don't see a-" "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!"

Everyone shouted and jumped up as you flicked the lights on, and you winced when you watched Larissa jump back in surprise. Larissa's mouth dropped open as she scanned the room, her eyes wide in shock. As you looked up at her expression your heart sunk a bit, for she didn’t look grateful, she didn't look like anything. Surprised, she was, but not happy surprised. "Larissa?" you whispered, and she whipped her head around and bent down to you, putting on a faceless expression. "Is this okay?" you asked hesitantly. Larissa blinked a few times before she turned to the room of people. Her staff were staring at her expectantly with smiles on their faces. She noticed a cake on the middle table, decorations, and a birthday sign that said 'Happy 30th!'

She began to walk slowly into the room, taking you with her. Once she got to the middle table, Larissa slowly but surely smiled. She took a deep breath and looked down at you, before looking around to all of her staff. "Thank you all" she said, bringing her other hand to her chest and laying it on her heart. Teachers then walked to her one by one and gave her a hug, saying happy birthday to her personally. You took that time to reach into your bag and dig out a birthday sash that read 'Birthday Queen'. You walked up to her and she laughed when she saw the sash, bending down to your level so you could slip it over her head and onto her body.

The party kicked off with everyone singing happy birthday to her, and then she blew out many candles on a chocolate cake that read 'Happy Birthday Larissa!'. You pulled out a bottle of her favorite red, which you knew she had already been drinking, and poured her a glass to go with her cake. When everyone finished eating, they socialized and played a few games that you had set out, and you took this time to finish her card.

You sat her down again and presented her with it. When she opened the card, it was full of small messages and signatures of everyone on the staff. Larissa scanned all the names before deciding that she would read the messages later tonight. You watched as a tear escaped her eye, but she was smiling. Your heartbeat quickened before it rested, happy tears, you thought. She looked around at everyone as she wiped at her eyes. "Thank you all so much. I haven't celebrated my birthday in so long."

“We didn't know when your birthday was Larissa, I thought it was in the summer" Vlad chuckled. Larissa giggled and sighed, "I know, I kept it a secret." Larissa then furrowed her brows and looked around at her staff, "Wait, how did you all find out?" Roger instantly gestured to you and smiled, "Y/N found out." Larissa looked down at you and tilted her head in question as a blush spread on your cheeks. "Y/N planned the whole party" Vlad added. The woman pouted her lip as she took your hand in hers. She smiled and squeezed your hand as her eyes watered, "Thank you darling."

The party went on and your heart clenched at the sight of Larissa enjoying herself with the others. You didn't know if she resented you for telling everyone about her birthday, but you were glad that she was celebrating herself. You were relieved, in awe really, you hoped that your digging and planning meant something to her.

When the party was over and most people left, you started cleaning up the room. Larissa stayed with you and started to clear the tables. "Larissa don't worry about the mess, I got it" you smiled.  She waved a hand at you dismissively, "Nonsense darling, let me help you." After everything had been cleaned up, you turned to her nervously. "Happy birthday Larissa, I hope it was enjoyable." Larissa smiled down at you and whispered a thank you. She then paused, "Come with me, will you?" You nodded and followed along.

She led you to her office where she gestured for you to sit on the sofa. You placed your bag on the floor and turned to her. "How did you find out that my birthday was today?" she asked. You chuckled in embarrassment, "I saw it written in your calendar."

Larissa's expression turned to one of joy as she laughed and shook her head, "Sneaky girl" she mused. You reached into your bag and pulled out a small box with her name on it. Larissa looked at you in shock as you held it out to her. "I didn't know if you liked celebrating, or if you even liked your birthday at all after you said that there were no more staff birthdays this month" you chuckled. "But, I thought that you were worth celebrating Larissa, so I got you something."

You held the box out to the woman as she stared down at you in awe. Her breathing was rapid and her eyes were teary once again, and you thought that she might not take it. You reached for her hand and placed the box into her delicate palm, "It’s not much, sorry" you smiled.

Larissa looked down at the box and slowly began to open it. Inside she found a bracelet, made with beads of Moonstone and Lapis Lazuli, a birthstone for the month of December, and the color of Larissa's eyes, you noted. In the middle of the bracelet there was a bead with the letter 'L'.

Larissa brought her hand to cover her gasp when she realized that you had made it yourself, all for her. As tears spilled from her eyes, you had no idea what was happening. You also had no time to say anything before the blonde woman wrapped her arms around you and pulled you tight against her. You felt her sniffle and cry into you, and you nuzzled your head into her as you began to stroke her hair. You didn't know why she was reacting like this, but no matter, you'd comfort her any day, you'd do anything for her, any day.

You let Larissa cry into your shoulder for a few minutes before you pulled back, and your eyes met her mascara stained face. "I love it" she whispered. You smiled and nodded. "I usually resent my birthday Y/N. Nobody ever celebrates with me and I, I have some bad memories." Larissa sniffled as she pressed her forehead to yours. "I'm sorry Larissa, I just thought you deserved to be celebrated." Larissa furrowed her brows, "Really?" You cupped her face in your hands, "Yes, really" you whispered.

Larissa stared into your eyes, perhaps she was trying to read you. She paused, and then she gave in. "I haven't been doing too well, darling. This time of year is lonely, and it's always hard for me, and I-" Larissa didn't get to finish her sentence because her voice wavered and tears fell again. You wiped them from her cheeks with your thumbs as she tried to told them back and her gaze fell to the floor. "Look at me Larissa" you whispered. Larissa again met your eyes hesitantly, and it was confirmed, you were right. She was sad, she was lonely, and she wasn't herself, but "I'm here for you. I will be here for you Larissa, please allow me to help you." Larissa let out a sob as she pulled you into her again and found comfort in your neck. You kissed her on the cheek and breathed in her being, as you felt tears fall from your own eyes. "I wanted to celebrate today Larissa, because, I'm so glad that you were born, I'm so happy that you're here. I'm so grateful for you, beautiful. I'm so, so proud of you."

Later that night, Larissa sat in her quarters, reading the messages that her friends had written. She pulled you tight next to her as she smiled at the bracelet on her arm, the bracelet that you had made her. Larissa realized that she did have people who loved her, in one way or another. She realized that she did want to live, she just didn't want to live alone. She came to the conclusion that you had saved her from herself that day. Such a simple gesture from you, a woman that hadn't known her that long, your observation and attention, and your thoughtfulness and love, had saved her.

You kissed her forehead and pulled her face closer to yours, winking. “Happy Birthday Larissa, 50 looks good on you." Larissa smiled and scoffed playfully as she returned the kiss to your nose.

Perhaps December 8th didn't need to mean anything, anything bad or traumatic, at least. Perhaps time didn’t mean anything, perhaps it didn't need to, if she didn't allow it. Perhaps she was the one that stayed, and perhaps you would be too.

[timetravellibrarian]

Zoro x reader

Zoro x femreader

Summary: A man seeks to follow his dreams, following only the path his swords carve for him and wherever his crew goes. Little does he know that the missing piece in his life, his soulmate whom he doesn't admit that he tries to seek would end up in a love-hate relationship.

Chapter One

_________________________________________

Chapter Three

You found yourself on the very same large rock at your islands beach, eyes looking over to the ocean. The mark in your wrist reminding you of the small ache in your heart. Your soulmate.

No night ever falls without your mind going to whoever out there in the world was meant for you. Someone who would choose you first. Someone who would love you unconditionally without the expected duty. You honestly didn't know how to explain what you felt.

"Penny for your thoughts, my lady?"A whisper broke you out if your thoughts, a small squeak barely escaping your lips before you felt yourself slipping from the rocks surface. The drop would be devastating had it not been for firm arms immediately wrapping themselves around your waist and pulling you flush against the one who intruded in your quiet time.

"My lady! I'm so sorry, he– I didn't see him pass throug–"

"It's alright Lyra. I'm alright." Your eyes went to your friend who seemed to have been thrown into panic, her rushed steps trying to balance in the rocks to try and reach you. Alas you were in the arms of the man you were promised to marry, Prince Cassius.

He let out a small huff of amusement as he picked you up bridal style and headed down the variously shaped rocks with waves crashing harshly against them. Soon Lyra, Cassius and you had landed safely on the dock, the prince placing you down.

"I apologize, princess. I wished to speak with you but I had been informed that you weren't in the castle."

You nodded, a look of curiosity at what he wanted to talk to you about.

"...then I asked your sister and brothers where you ought to be at this hour and they didn't know..."

"How did you find me here?"

He smiled," I have my ways, princess. Or should I refer to you as my beloved seeing as we are to wed in a month's time."

'A MONTH!'

"Pardon, a month you say?" The mark on your wrist felt like a rocks piling up on top of your body, held up by little hope.

"Exactly why I wanted to talk to you. My father spoke with the king and have agreed on a date at around this time next month.

You stayed silent. Looking up at his chestnut brown eyes,the unnoticeable freckles on his face. His sharp nose. 'My children might inherit that'

"I know this is a large step for you." His hands went to yours, fingers trailing over R.Z that's was etched onto your wrist by fate. His lip quirked down in unnoticeable displeasure at its sight. " I will do my best to love you as much as any soulmate would. Maybe even more."

His eyes locked onto yours longer than you were used to, his words were like a promise. One that wouldn't be broken. But promises are merely words used to appease fools. Maybe right now you would allow yourself to believe. What could possibly go wrong?

_______________________________________

"Don't you wonder who your soulmate is?" Sanji said as he placed a cigarette to his lips. His eyes went to the uncovered mark on Zoro's wrist. The whole time he had gotten to know the swordsman he never heard much word about his soulmate. The matter shut down with a glare or met with silence.

Everyone present on deck almost held their breath. Robin , Nami, even Luffy.

"I have thought about them." Zoro answered, taking a sip of the bottle in his hands,"I've never stopped." And true to his word he never has.

The sun never rose without his mind wandering to the mark on his wrist. The one connection he had with the person who was truly meant for him.

All his life Zoro had been fighting. He fought in Shimotsuki Village, growing up. He fought in Shells Town before and after he met Luffy. Now he's in Skypeia and he's fought since since Enel had discovered them. Almost everyday he fights to fulfill his dream. To become the world's greatest swordsman.

But do dreams keep a man warm? Do dreams chase after him as much as he does?

He loves his crew, would die for them even. But what is this feeling of loneliness that lies deep within the pit of his stomach and cuts deeper that a sword against his skin.

He looked at the swirly haired cook, the bane of his existence.

"Then why don't you try to find them?!" Luffy yelled, his face staying in confusion. "They're somewhere out there aren't they?"

Nami slapped Luffy upside the head. "Don't be an idiot Luffy. The world's too big. He or she could be anywhy."

"Not to mention that anyone can have those initials." Robin added, paging through her book.

"And they could possibly be a marine, a rival pirate, a serial killer, an arsonist, a murderer and other very bad things." Chopper added as he came back from restocking the infirmary. He sat down beside Robin as she read.

"You guys really know how to cheer up a guy," Sanji said as he blew out a puff of smoke," Those are realistic expectations. But let's be positive for a second."

"Skip the positivity, I'd rather not sit around and wait to be swept off my feet. Life goes on. I'm sure wherever my soulmate is she's fine." Zoro took one last gulp of his drink. Washing down the sense of foreboding that plagued his senses

_________________________________________

She in fact wasn't gonna be fine

@mars-mizuko

@bi-narystars

@mythicallystupid

@urbisexualfriend

[evieelyzabethh]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐞𝐝

pairing(s): spike x demon!reader

summary: watching the man you love fawn over someone else is always hard, especially when you know you could love him better.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, later seasons Spike, soft Spike, the reader is a demon so old that no one knows your name and they call you Honey.

Spike was an actor, but William was a poet. This was easy to tell when watching Spike act as if he wasn't in love with Buffy. William would've written her a sonnet, presented her with a rose and some ridiculously expensive necklace. The image of a stone glittering around her neck would've inspired dozens of lines of prose, enough to keep her image alive in those fateful moments when she wasn't there to be looked upon. Spike looked. He watched. He stalked. It was his bad boy persona, the leather jacket hiding the heart that still beat out of his chest. Some things never changed.

This new apocalypse had changed something, though, that and the fact that Buffy had now come back from the dead a second time. You thought it would make her more formidable. A cockroach. Through apocalypse after apocalypse, thick and thin, even death, she was never really gone. Whether she was crawling, suffering, or drowning, she always came back. You liked Buffy, you were friends, or whatever she called the unhumans she hung around who wasn't dating her or one of her friends.

She kept you at an arms width ever since she found you back before her first death. In a bottle or a vase, something old and dusty that tipped over in the library and through smoke you materialized. You didn't remember much; you didn't remember anything. The collection of you took days, like assembling some million and one pieced puzzle. Pieces were lost along the way, Giles bet that somewhere between your brain being assembled and your bones hardening that your memory slipped through the cracks of the old hardwood flooring and was lost to the Hell Mouth beneath. He also said that if the memory was so heavy it sank, it wasn't worth remembering anyways.

This being said, it made since that she wasn't immediately open to letting you in and you were fine with that. You didn't know how to exist otherwise. Feelings were also lost on you, along with your name, and breathing, and speaking. You read a lot, after being placed in Giles' care, you only ever were in the school library or his personal library in his apartment, and being born again, you now had a broken vocabulary of unnatural and old English.

It was Willow who named you Honey. She told you hot tea helped with the healing vocal cords and that honey would hopefully act as a sticky cement so they would stay together. Lots of honey was what you consumed until your presence became synonymous with honey and then that became your name. Remembering to breath came soon after, it made your human company that much more relaxed around you. That and the fact that because you were so broken, you weren't deemed a threat.

Feelings came crashing after the fact.

Angelus' return took a toll on Buffy and Spikes appearance began your ascension. You had read classics before; Giles didn't exactly keep copies of Dr. Seuss or even Baum. It was all Bronte, Shelly, or Austen. Writers who taught you that humans love and to love is human and you didn't understand at all not until

"And who might you be, love?"

What are you wasn't the question and he called you "love". Could you be called love, was that something you could be. With how much honey you consumed, you probably were part honey, but even outside of that, when the humans introduce themselves, they say "I am..." so you said "I am Honey" to fit in.

But he called you Love.

You didn't doubt Willow, but you wondered if being Honey was a mistake, if being love was an option. To be love would mean to have love and how did one do that.

"I am Honey." you replied. 3 words that didn't even scratch the surface of what you wanted to say. Maybe speech was more lost on you than you thought.

A lot of time had passed since then. A few apocalypses, a more modern and appropriate speech pattern, plenty of feelings and more importantly, the knowledge that feelings couldn't be shared.

Being so far removed from everyone else made it easy to notice things that they didn't. You noticed her push him away. You had heard him confess. You had become friends after a while, and there were many moments when you would be in his crypt talking to him in between bottles of wine and blood, pigs' blood after he became aware of his feelings. He told you about her, he raved about her bravery, he retold her jokes. The affect she had on him was palpable, impossible to ignore. His lips spoke of Buffy, he cried tears that reflected Buffy, even when he looked at you, he was looking for pieces of Buffy. That was the only explanation for why he would look at you for so long. You weren't a genius, you weren't even a poet, but you knew better than to delude yourself. And yet

He looked at you.

He watched you. He saw you. He perceived you; and it was so beautiful.

He also told you of Dru. She would have moments of clarity when she would revert to the ghost of who she was before Angelus drove her insane. Moments when she would look at the stars, not because she was seeing things, but because she was looking at them. Like the haze of one thousand years had cleared and she was looking at the stars, not shiny shards of glass wedged in a rocky ceiling. She stopped echoing wishes, and she made them. He even told you her favorite wish. She wanted a pretty dress to go to a pretty ball. It was so normal and human. She wanted to exist and be a girl in her own time again, like it used to be. Maybe she also wanted to be human.

Sometimes, if you found the strength in you to stomach it, you liked to think he looked at you like how she used to look at the stars. Like Buffy was his pipe dream and you were what he really wanted.

It wasn't a stretch of the imagination. She was a slayer, and he was a vampire. She is a pipe dream. She was the false stars of shattered glass, she was dangerous to him, she would hurt him. She has hurt him.

Every time he told her he loved her, she told him no. A step worse than rejection, she denied he even could love her. Demons weren't capable of love; he was experiencing obsession. He wanted to own her, to take her, ravish her and leave her a husk of who she used to be then toss her when the infatuation faded. He didn't need to, she already was. Death did that to her, she didn't need Spike to finish the job. And obsession. If what Spike felt towards her was obsession, then what the hell was she feeling.

This all lead to today. An old show playing on the boxy television, sitting on a newly stolen couch, occasionally passing a bowl of popcorn between the two of you. The show was a cheesy vampire comedy where the main character had finally cornered the terrifying "Dracula" and staked him with a cartoonishly large stake. "Blood squirted everywhere, coating the main character with what was probably corn syrup, chocolate syrup, and red food dye.

"That is totally unrealistic. Us vampires don't bleed, and he would've seen that stake from a mile away." he said while tossing a handful of popcorn at the screen.

"I doubt they had a way to turn him to dust back in like the 40's." he scoffed at your nonchalance.

"This is ridiculous. Us vampires need better representation on the telly, they're makin' us look like bumbling idiots." you can' help but laugh at his dramatics. In his rage, his hair had fallen out of place. It wasn't gelled like it usually was, a mistake he'll probably rectify in a few hours when the sun goes down.

"I didn't know you took such pride in being a vampire." He dramatically jumps to face you, a disgusted look on his face.

"Of bloody course I do. Why on Earth would I want to be human."

"Maybe Buffy would like you if you were human." For anyone else it would've been a low blow, but he lets you slide. That and the fact that beneath the mocking tone you took, you didn't laugh at it all that much.

"Would you want to be human, love?" There it is again. You should be used to it by now, but you still every time you hear it from him. Maybe because when it comes from him you want it. You had been on dates with other guys, some of whom confessed to you. The Scoobies told you they loved you multiple times before, even better, they all meant it and the feeling is mutual. Why is it still so much different with him.

"I don't know, I think it could be nice. I think life would be easier." He smiled.

"Why? You're not a vampire, you can frolic in the sun as much as you'd like." you shake your head.

"That's not it." What could it be? Spike wasn't often confused, as a matter of fact he was extremely self-assured, but he couldn't figure out what you were missing out on. He'd much rather be in you position than to remember every sin he's ever committed. You got the immortality and the powers with none of the guilt that comes with it.

"If I was human, I wouldn't be nearly as confused. I'd know more, I guess."

"But what if you never lost your memory? Knowing things wouldn't be an issue." If only knowing your name was the knowledge you were seeking.

"Knowing things wouldn't be an issue but there are some uniquely human things I can't experience because I'm not a human."

"Like what?" Being human at one point was interesting, it was so ingrained in Spike he couldn't imagine what it would be like for feelings to not be second nature. He never needed to understand them, feeling them was more than enough.

"I don't know because I'm not human. I don't know what I'm missing, but I'm missing something." Quit beating around the bush.

"What if you didn't need to be human and it just fell out?"

"What is so bad about being human that it fell out."

"Trust me, as a former human myself, there is plenty to hate about being human. They're puny and pathetic." He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the couch along then struck a match against a loose plank of wood. Bringing it to his lips, he inhaled the smoke and blew it away from your face, but the breeze from an open (broken) window whisked it towards your face anyway.

"But is that because you were human, or because you are you?" His gaze hardened at how quick the answer came.

"You think I was pathetic?" The fallen embers came onto his pants, but he paid them no mind.

"You think you used to be pathetic." Though this was true, a part of him felt offended. Even stranger, he didn't know which part.

"Because I was. I was human and emotional and a bloody mess, because I was human. Demons don't feel anything which is far better than feeling and getting hurt."

"But you aren't demon enough to know what it means to feel nothing!" You weren't a demon to him, though. It would've been easy for him to forget that you weren't one of those pesky humans had it not been for your distinctly not human scent. It was like whisky, rich and old and expensive. Too expensive to break open and drink because it grew more valuable with time. He'd do anything for you not to go to waste.

"And if you want to feel so badly, you can't possibly be that much of a demon!" To waste you would for you to be human. They're too fragile. They die. Spike longed to be a demon because at his core, he was a coward. He didn't want to die. Judging by how much you yearned to be human, you feared loneliness more.

"Why do you love Buffy so much." Ah, the point.

Spike was many things. A bastard, one of those British nancy boys, a coward, a freak. A thing he prided himself the most on was his intellect. He was insightful, he could be emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. This was the important part.

A part of him knew his best friend loved him. A part he profusely ignored because he was only emotionally intelligent when he wanted to be. He could admit that he was intellectual and intelligent and at times wise, he believed those to be self-evident truths, cornerstones of his Spikeism. He's the brooding, yet insightful, bad boy with a heart of gold who does the right thing when it conveniences him. He's an actor and this was the character he's had centuries to build, and he'd be damned it cracked because then he'd be proving that he was never anything more than William "The Bloody Bad Poet".

Maybe self-hatred was the root of it. The inescapable need- no instinct, to kick himself in the ass at any possible opportunity, was why he ignored you. It had to be some sick penchant for pain, or the belief that he wasn't deserving of good things, because if you were nothing else, you were good to him which meant you deserved better than him.

But altruism doesn't fit into the paradigm of Spike. Altruism is William's thing which made this so much more horrifying. William loved you. Spike loving you meant nothing because he didn't really mean it. The stage kisses and the dramatized sex scenes were suffocatingly filled with false passion, more passion than humanly possible. Spike loved hard, William loved deeply, and both loved you. It couldn't be undone, but it could be forgotten.

"I don't know." Those 3 words didn't even begin to scratch the surface of why he "loved" her.

"But all I know of love comes from you, I learned it from you, and you don't know why you love her?" You wanted to cry, and you hated it. If you could take it back, you would. You wished you had shut your mouth and watched the stupid show that was still playing as you had this argument.

"Love isn't something you explain." He put distance between the two of you, standing up and walking away from the couch in search for a bottle of alcohol. He wasn't planning on you following him, following closer than the tail of his leather duster.

You threw the alcohol before his hand even grazed it, smashing it against the concrete walls of his crypt. Positioning yourself between himself and the makeshift table that used to be a grave, you stood your ground. Blinking back tears because the second water hit that cement you were done for.

"Then show me. That's how I learned before." He clenched then unclenched his jaw. Buffy was all over him, but you were inside of him. The air he breathed, the blood in his veins, the force making his heart beat was you and it always had been. "Show me."

He was scared.

"What if you don't understand." He was stalling. For too long he hadn't been allowed to have anything. Dru was never his because Angelus had ingrained his way into her very being. Buffy was never realistic, and even if she was, she was human. One day she'd die, and he'd move on long before that date anyways. You were so attainable, and you were willing to be his. What if he fucked up. He has, right in front of him, sharing breaths mere inches from each other, everything he had ever wanted, and he didn't even have to fight for it. Handed to him on a silver platter was the key to the universe, but he could find a way to fuck it up. He always did.

"You don't know that." He held your head in his hands, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. His world in the palm of his hands. What if he dropped it.

"You love me?"

"I didn't even know what love was before I met you." You whispered it and he shattered. He kissed you, as if he could pull the sound from your lips so that your confession him that could replay forever in his mind. Like he was sealing some sort of promise so you couldn't take it back.

"I love you." He said in between kisses. "I love you so much it hurts." He kissed you on the forehead." I love you so much it makes me feel alive again." He kissed you on your right cheek, "Longed for you like the sun and cherished you like the stars, I love you.", then on the left.

He looked you in the eyes before kissing you again. As if he wouldn't be there to say it again, as if you could somehow forget it, he said it once more.

"I love you."

[scummy-writes]

Uncomposed Sorrows

Rating: General

Pairing: Arthur/Reader

Word Count: 1455

Summary: Arthur's noticed you haven't been indulging in your favorite hobby, and decides to see if he can help.

"You really need to stop being so nervous, dove."

Arthur's chin rested on your shoulder as you sat in his lap, and you could feel the sigh escape his body. The pen that you had been tapping against the paper slowed in your hand as you stilled. His idle fingers drummed on your sides before giving up with that motion, and his arms encircled your middle instead.

The two of you were settled in his room, sitting at his desk. Wind flowed from the open window in gentle gusts, teasing your locks as the empty papers in front of the two were weighted down by the fountain pen resting on top.

It was comforting, serene, but your heart still clamored wildly, thoughts rushing through your head at speeds that hurt. Arthur was trying his best to make you feel comfortable, but even his loving embrace and honeyed words weren't helping.

Your shoulders slumped with dejection, knowing he was trying to help you and nothing was still working out.

"I-I'm trying." The words came out meekly, embarrassed that your brain was fighting so much with you over such a simple action; writing. But you couldn’t help it! If you could just go against the brash thoughts your mind threw at you, you would have done so long ago…

"I know. Here," one hand left you to instead take ahold of the pen resting before you. As soon as the pen touched the surface, the strokes were confident and quick, scratching words on the page for you.

It all started with

And he stopped, setting the pen back down.

"Write down the first sentence your mind drums up, and let's try going from there."

"Just like that?" You questioned, hesitantly picking the pen up.

"Just like that."

The pen felt heavy in your hand, the weight of it feeling as though it was increasing with every nervous beat of your heart. You brought the tip of it towards the line he had started for you, but the moment the pen made contact with the paper, you froze again.

For what felt like the hundredth time today.

You couldn't help but stare at the sheet in front of you, watching hopelessly as the ink pooled onto the paper, quickly spreading until Arthur gently covered your hand with his, pulling the pen away.

"Dove-"

"I-I'm sorry," you stammered, white-hot shame for freezing at just writing eating you up inside, "I know this isn't fun-"

"Shh, you're not bothering me, luv," he nuzzled your shoulder, arms moving back to hug your middle again, "why don't you relax? I can feel how nervous you are."

The breath you took felt like it rattled your rib cage. As you exhaled, your shoulders seemed to rest as well. It wasn’t until that moment you realized how tense you had become- your whole body almost ached with how tightly wound up you had been.

“That’s it- just like that. Come now, rest against me, luv.”

“B-but the writing-”

“-Isn’t going anywhere. I think a break will do you some good, pet. So, please?”

Usually, being able to lean back against Arthur and let him cuddle you wasn’t an action you fought with, especially when he paired it with those sweet, loving kisses he would pepper against your temple…But your mood was too sour, and this felt too much like giving up.

Giving up when Arthur was trying to help you out, after noticing the way your notebook had been gathering dust for weeks. He was able to easily deduce something was keeping you from indulging in your favorite pastime, but he never seemed to let on if he knew exactly what that was.

You let yourself rest your head against his shoulder, turning to face the window. Maybe today would have been better spent going on a proper date together, but now you were frustrated with yourself. Especially since Arthur seemed excited to try and help you write again, even alluding to this as a special date between two writers.

But Arthur was an accomplished author. All you did was write to let some anxious thoughts rest; you never planned on striving for a career out of this. At least not in the shape you were in now.

“Deep sighs like that don’t suit you, darling,” Arthur pressed a gentle kiss on your temple, and you felt yourself pout with how sweet he was being, “why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I don't think I could form a coherent sentence…”

“Try for me. Just let your thoughts out.”

Terrifying. But his hands were rubbing your arms, soothing the overly tensed muscles, breathing calm back into you. Before you knew it, you clamped your eyes shut, letting out a long breath that carried anxieties out with it.

“Every time I write, it feels as though I am fighting with myself,” you admitted. When Arthur let out a quiet hum, patiently waiting, you continued, “every word I put to paper is criticized by this voice inside of me. Even as I think of the words, the very basis of the scene- this thing inside of me rips it to shreds. Mocking me for even thinking of structuring a story- no, a sentence, in such a way.”

You paused, taking in a shaking breath, shame welling in your eyes, “and I'm so tired, Arthur. I'm so tired of it. I just want to have fun doing this again. I miss it being fun.”

Your lover, bless him, wasn't as relentless as your mind. His lips pressed against your head in simple kisses, coaxing those horrible feelings out of your burning chest. Gently, he held you. As the tears were blinked back, your breath aching. Not minding the time it took for your tremors to stop.

“You're not going to enjoy what I have to say, luv,” he murmured softly, “but you need an honest break.”

“But wouldn't writing help me get over this-”

“Not today. Not right now.”

Gingerly, Arthur tips your chin, making your gaze fall upon him. His smile is soft, but the worry in his eyes hurts.

“I'm as guilty as you when it comes to trying to get the words out- Theo can attest to how much groaning he's endured from me. But there are times when the well is completely dry, and our demons want to taunt us about it.

You can't force it out when you've got nothing to give, dove. Instead, you've got to rest. Read those books you've got stacked up waiting for you, play with Vic, talk to the others-” he paused, planting another kiss on your forehead, “perhaps give a bloke a chance to take your mind away from your worries?”

“Do… do you really think it will help?”

“More than you'd believe. Much better than torturing yourself over it.”

You looked back at the puddle of ink left on the paper, now dried and stained.

“What if it doesn't?”

“It will feel like it won't,” he admitted, taking the paper into his hand and crumpling it, tossing it in the bin and away from your guilty stare, “you'll think you're done for. That you'll never lay pen to paper again. And then you'll be busy with something else completely different down the line, something as mundane as the dishes- and it will hit you. And you'll curse because there won't be a pen in sight, but it will still be there, waiting. And then you'll write like a man possessed.”

The words were earnest, spoken with experience. Yet, your mind wanted to rip their good intentions to shreds at just the thought of deliberately choosing not to write. Was it really as simple as he said?

But you had seen the way he handled his own blocks of creativity. From lamenting playfully with you, to refusing to look at his drafts for days. And you knew he wouldn't lead you astray, not purposefully.

As painful as it was, you took in a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you came to terms with reality: you couldn't brute force progress, not when it hurt so much.

“...What time does the cafe close?”

Arthur grinned, giving you a tight squeeze,

“dreadfully early, but there's a new restaurant I've been aching to take you to. Let me grab my coat.”

His excitement eased the wash of anxiety threatening to overtake you, the cacophony inside your head simmering down as you listened to his voice. This decision felt terrifying, especially not knowing how long this break could last, but you were willing to trust his advice to give it an honest try.

And maybe somewhere along the way, he could help you fall in love with writing again.

This has been a wip for . . . Almost two years. I suffered through getting this finished. Ironically, it was just the ending I needed to finish, the rest of it I wrote pretty quickly and easily. So if it sounds different in comparison to the rest, that is why.

Big thanks to @nightghoul381 for being willing to read through it and offer encouragement as I agonized. Bless u, ghoul,,,,

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!): @yarnnerdally @katriniac @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bakaneko-chan @skoetiepoetie @bestbryn @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @fang-and-feather @lokis-laugh @queengiuliettafirstlady @candied-boys

Ikevamp Masterlist | Ikepri Masterlist | Ikepri/Ikevamp Server

[look-a-yandere-fandom-blog]

Reader tried to break into Moira's lab but ended up messing up something which led them to get injured and caught.

They thought they were ready for anything but turns to their surprise the doctor seems to have taken a sort of liking in them.

Reader is not sure if it's better or worse than simply being treated like a spy.

(Yes the Overwatch one. Sorry I wasn't aware that there were others with the same name among your fanchises as I'm only familiar with OW.)

Break-In | Oneshot

Moira O’Deorain / Gender Neutral Reader

Fandom: Overwatch 

_________________________________

Ambiguous yan - can be read as platonic or romantic.

_________________________________

Content Warning: Injury detail, blood, implied obsession, Moira being condescending as hell (so pretty much how she usually acts).

(If there’s anything else I need to add to these warnings, please let me know.)

Thank you for the ask anon, and also thanks for the additional clarification! Moira’s always been a fave of mine, so this was super fun to write! (outside of tumblr glitching out and not letting me save to my drafts haha)

_________________________________

The job was simple.

Get in.

Steal the vial.

Get out.

What was in the vial?

To be honest, you had no idea.

The mission brief was the same as the previous two, so you didn't pay much attention.

You knew the drill, having worked alongside Overwatch for a few months now. You weren't exactly a member of the group, but your knack for infiltration led to you being roped into a few assignments here and there.

These missions allowed you to stretch your wings: they gave you a chance to hone your skills in the field, without being limited by the security of a simulation or training program. Every mistake would cost something, every slip-up would eat away precious time. This was the real deal; which made every victory that much sweeter.

And apparently, your actions helped prevent an array of nefarious plots from being carried out. That's a nice bonus. So, despite the little pay, it's not the worst gig you've had. 

You start to climb through the lab's window carefully. The alarm was easily disabled during your first mission here, and, after a quick check, you confirm that it's still inactive. 

The security here must be pretty lousy to not have fixed the alarm, you think. And even lousier to not have noticed it’s deactivation. It’s weird… as you remember the brief saying this was a pretty high-tech place. High budget. Higher-profile investors. Fancy gadgets and all that. 

But, if it saves you from having to find another way in, you’ll take advantage of their ignorance. 

You swing your legs over the window frame, setting yourself down on the tiled floor of the laboratory. The room was meticulous, as always. Its occupant must be the diligent type. 

Test tubes, chemicals, and strange-looking contraptions that you couldn’t even try to guess the purpose of are dotted about the room. They’re kept in organised groups, neatly distributed on the lab’s countertops. 

It’s spotless. Shiny. Blinking lights of green, blue, and red reflect off the countertops’ dull steel. The garish gleam of artificial colour bounces off the edge of every surface, lining corners and curves while the rest of their forms remain shrouded in darkness. 

You tread the room carefully, eyes trained in their search for any new cameras or alarms. It doesn’t matter if they catch you on film, as long as you can escape before they alert any guards. 

After a few moments, you see movement on the edge of your peripheral vision. A camera is lodged in the corner of the room, attached to the ceiling, panning back and forth blindly. The hunk of metal is indifferent to you, continuing its monotonous loop.  

So there have been changes since your last visit. And with it, a chance someone could be watching you. 

But you’re already in. It’d be a waste to back out now. 

Swiftly, you start to rifle through cabinets, through drawers, searching for that vial. Intel had given a vague description: it being rather small, glass, easy to miss, and containing a purple fluid. They couldn’t get much more on it, the lab’s owner intent on keeping most others out. 

The name of its owner continues to elude you. It was mentioned during the first mission’s brief. Upon hearing it, those attending alongside you gave each other concerned glances, but you didn’t pay much mind, focused instead on memorising the building’s layout. It didn’t much matter to you who worked here, only if you could get in. 

Then, finally, you spot it. Tucked away in a corner of a cabinet. Just a little too high for you to reach. 

Damnit. 

You shift to stand on the tips of your toes, leaning on the countertop to keep yourself steady, as you reach up. Your fingertips grasp at nothing, while your thoughts are occupied with prayers that you don’t knock the cursed thing further back. 

Almost, almost, then…

Pain. 

Sharpness tears into you. Air knocked out of your lungs. You look down. 

A trap digs into your leg. Rippling patterns upon it as it strives to blend into the floor. Cloaking technology. Near-invisible until activated. 

Your vision blurs. Adrenaline fogging up your sight. Like smoke filling an enclosed space. Choking. Inescapable. 

It does nothing to dispel the sting. Agony biting into your leg as you sink to the floor, trying to pry your limb from the trap. But every movement only makes the injury worse. 

Blood, your blood, glints with blaring colours. Green. Blue. Red. 

Red coats your hands, making the attempt to free yourself clumsy. Blood pools atop the pale-tiled floor. It gathers in the shallow channels between each tile. Flowing like rivers from their human source. 

Gritting your teeth, your heartbeat pounds in your ears.

You can’t hear the sound of a door opening, nor that of footsteps stepping closer. 

You can’t see the figure approaching. Assured. Confident. Striding close with an aura of victory. A hunter returning to their snare. 

Their outline shifts into focus. Faint colours saturated by the blinking lights of the lab. Red hair. Black shirt. Purple tie. The details fade in and out. It's all blots and blotches and assumptions. 

Then, the figure crouches down right in front of you. 

She is right in front of you.

“Awh…” She coos, condescension falling from her lips in waves.

"Aren't you just pathetic..?"

A hand emerges from the haze. It rests upon your face, thumb and forefinger along your cheekbone, ring finger against your jaw. 

"Did you really believe you could fool me thrice, little thief?”

Your hand fumbles to hers, trying to push it away. Blood smears across her pale skin as she chuckles. Words rise in your throat, but are smothered by your lung’s ragged breaths.

“Marvellous contraption, isn’t it?” She continues in her rhetorical speech, knowing that you’re in no state to reply. Her hand trails down to your injured leg, nails brushing against your punctured skin, captivated and cruel. You look down to the trap, its blurry outline barely visible. 

“One of Sombra’s works. Remotely activated, imperceptible, and immobilising.”

“While the disorientation-” She grabs your chin, suddenly yanking your head back up. Eye to eye. “That is thanks to something of mine.” 

“In fact, it’s what you came here for. Laced along the points. Distilled, of course. I wouldn’t want you to be… permanently afflicted by it.” Your vision swims, your surroundings fading in and out. Her face remains the only constant, the only thing your cloudy eyes can keep their focus on. 

Then, even that begins to fade… your eyelids feeling heavier by the second. Falling closed, despite your efforts to keep them open, prompting another laugh from her. 

“There’s no point in fighting, little thief. You wouldn’t make it far regardless.” Amusement fills her voice. You both know that there’s no escape for you here. Not now. With this concoction in your system, and this metal jammed into your leg. 

No escape… no way out…

As you slip away… into the unknown of unconsciousness… the last thing you see is her face… mismatched eyes glinting in the blinking lights of the lab.  _________________________________

[brain-amoeba]

Hi!!! I love your writings I'm addicted!!!!! Could I maybe request a sniper fic in which the "oh no only one bed" trope encounter (perhaps just in his van) but the reader was already wearing something revealing and it's driving him kind of nuts. He like gets more and more frustrated and eventually just kind of makes a brutally honest move in initiating an intimate moment (if yk what I mean)?? I know it's weirdly specific and idm if you skip this one!!! Also Sniper and the reader were not in a relationship before this encounter. Ty!!!!

I had so much fun writing this one tbh hopefully I was able to faithfully capture what you had envisioned!!!!-- i admit i wrote sniper a wee bit out of character towards the end but that was mostly a plot driven choice for the frustration bit :3 enjoy!!!!

Stake Out (Sniper x fem!Reader)

Sniper didn't understand why he couldn't just be alone. He's never needed another person to watch his back while on a stake-out, and he damn sure doesn't need one now. Admittedly, he's quite frustrated. With you? Not exactly. With the situation? Damn straight. The dead of summer heat left you scantily clad, much to Sniper's detriment. How could he bear to get anything done when you're sitting right here next to him like this, as if on display? You weren't exactly a happy camper, either. You knew Sniper didn't need any help, so you were already prepared to deal with a sour attitude-- but the unbearable heat and the fact that you have no choice but to spend a night together in his one-man van--left you equally as frustrated as the Aussie.

As the afternoon dragged on, you let out an exasperated sigh and turned to your superior. "Is it okay if I take a nap?" You ask meekly, afraid of distracting him as he peered through his scope wordlessly. Sniper pauses a moment, then sets his rifle down. "A nap? Wasn't your whole reason for bein' 'ere to watch my back?" The look on his face sent a shiver down your spine. It was just an innocent question, really! You figured since it was an unspoken fact that the both of you knew you didn't really need to be here, it would be okay if you, well, slacked a bit. You cock your head to the side before testing the waters again. "...yes?" He stared at you with an expression you were unable to read. Was he mad? Was he just pulling your leg? Sniper pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, looking back up at you sternly. "Sure." It was hard to deny that his pent up frustration, among his general discontent with today's circumstances, left him irritable. From the bloody start he just wished he could be alone. None of this would have happened! Now how is he supposed to concentrate with the temptation of your vulnerable, unconscious body left splayed out before him mere feet away?! He shooed you along, allowing you to sleep in the camper while he did a little exercise in self control and maintained watch on enemy territory.

Upon entering, you thought nothing more of your surroundings and crashed on the bed with a soft thud. It was almost too easy to fall asleep, until you shot straight up and felt panic set in. Oh god. This is the only bed in this whole camper. The only viable surface to lay on, period. You were suddenly plagued with the image of a scowling Sniper, and the discomforting silence that hung around the two of you all day. How on earth are we supposed to sleep in this bed together?! The thought of cuddling with your superior after you were sure you just ruined his whole day made you tremble with anxiety. You thought it best to set your worries aside for now to get some rest. Perhaps if you slept now, that meant you could stay up on watch through the night while Mundy got his rest--avoiding the bed predicament entirely. As you pondered on what exactly you'd like to say and played out the interaction in your head, you lulled yourself to sleep with your own thoughts. The heat left you laid out on top of the covers with your sweat-soaked garments hugging your body like a constrictor. Right as you fell asleep, Sniper, with his brief solitude, was able to clear his head and abate his frustration for the time being.

With no new action on the frontier, he decided to take a small break to check on you, making sure you at least were comfortable back there. Sniper knew it wasn't exactly a home, and felt a slight twinge of guilt having such a beautiful girl like you surrounded in his clutter. The Aussie gently knocked before entering still, and was greeted by the sight of you, out cold in a starfish position. He stumbled back, instinctively snatching off his hat and using it to cover his eyes. Guess she made herself comfortable. He thought to himself, hiding his flushed expression behind the slouch hat. Sniper set the hat back on his head, clearing his throat to try and escape the awkward silence between himself and your unconscious form below him. Mundy knew he had no business back here anymore--all he was to do was assure you found yourself alright back there, then he would return to his post. Yet, he found he couldn't bring himself to move. His eyes were glued to your body, as if its beauty had taken hold of him. You could still feel an overbearing presence, even in your unconscious state, which caused you to stir. Sniper inched closer to you, against his better judgment. The pent up frustration from spending a whole afternoon next to you, wearing the least amount of clothing you could get away with...it drove him absolutely mad. Even more so, knowing there was nothing he could do about it--he couldn't make a move, he was a professional after all! ...And professionals have standards. Before finally returning to his post, he hastily covered your limp form with a used towel discarded nearby. Out of sight, out of mind.

The afternoon waned into evening, and not long thereafter plunged the frontier into night. Still no new sights to behold, Sniper quickly wrapped up the stake-out. After notating the last of his findings, he started the van with an exasperated sigh. 'Bout damn time this bloody day's over. I can finally relax. He thought to himself. As he maneuvered the van to a more discrete location, Sniper's thoughts were suddenly interrupted with the damning realization of the sleeping situation. Meanwhile, the engine sounds and sudden sensation of movement woke you from your slumber. You rubbed your eyes as you took a moment to regain awareness, still stuck in the drunken stupor of your slumber. You looked down at the towel serving as your blanket, and couldn't help but notice the familiar musky scent of your superior overwhelming your senses. A light blush dusted your cheeks as you realized this meant Sniper had come in and covered you up. You sat up now, and peered through the blinds of a nearby window. You found yourself lost in admiration of the purplish tranquility of the sleeping desert before you. So much so, that you hadn't noticed the van had stopped, nor the sound of Sniper joining you in the camper.

Upon turning away from the window you shrieked in surprise. "When did you get there?!" You asked, startled from the sudden company of your superior. "Well, if you'd get your head out of the sand you'd've noticed I came in about," He starts, checking his watch for dramatic effect, "5 minutes ago." You rolled your eyes at his attitude while scooting away from the window and pulling the towel back over yourself. "I just don't understand how a dry death-scape can become subzero in just a matter of hours." You remarked, now shuddering from the cold. "Uhh, yeah...about that," Sniper trailed off, his edge now softened by embarrassment. "How d'ya wanna do this? I shouldn't have to state the obvious..." He deliberately avoided eye contact with you as he spoke. Now it was your turn to serve that Aussie attitude right back at him. "What's wrong? The world's greatest sniper is scared of a wittle bed?" His gaze snapped to you, slightly taken aback by your sass. "Whatd'ya just say to me?" Sniper pressed on. His brows were furrowed in growing anticipation and he almost wished you'd keep up your act. Thankfully, you delivered. "You heard me! It's just a bed. Or is it not the bed...is it me? You don't wanna share a bed with me??"

Admittedly, you had no idea where you pulled the confidence from to speak to your superior like this. Perhaps it was just frustration from a day wasted, or dwindling tolerance for his own sour attitude. Whatever it was, you knew you were already so deep in a hole you figured you might as well make it deeper. Sniper moved closer in response to your questioning. "You think I'm scared of a little bed? Or a little girl, no less?!" The gap between the two of you was nonexistent. "No, I'm not scared at all, roo. I figured'ya wanna sleep alone. But I guess I was wrong, yea? You really wanna share a bed?" He threw your sass right back at you and now you were in a corner. Literally-- he towered over you, causing you to scoot back until you met the foot of the bed in question. Sniper pursued, leaving you caged between himself and the bed. "Sure, roo, we can share the bed. Why, let's just go ahead and get right in." He suddenly scooped you into his surprisingly robust arms and sat down on the bed with you still in his embrace.

He held you almost too tight, and you instinctively straddled him. While sitting in his lap, you felt his erection poke the soft flesh between your thighs. Your flushed faces were mere inches apart, and before you could open your mouth to speak, Sniper grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a fervent, aggressive kiss. It didn't take you long to reciprocate, letting your hands wander along his jawline and neck innocently as he pushed further, now breaching the territory of your mouth with his tongue. The throbbing wetness between your legs begged for reprieve, and you shyly rocked your hips against Sniper's to get the friction you so desperately needed. He broke the kiss, a glinting trail of saliva still connecting the two of you in a depraved, arousing kind of way. Large gloved hands trailed down your sides, one of them finding itself between your legs. Sniper teasingly ghosted his fingers just above, below, and around exactly where you wanted them to be which caused your legs to tremble in anticipation and now-bubbling over arousal. Suddenly, he removed his hand entirely, looking back at you with an impish smirk.

"Scared enough for ya, roo?"

[moss-bride]

Koi boi (Lawrence x fem!reader) Chapt:4

Dead dove do not eat.

How do deers mate?

The female doe enters estrus. The male buck enters rut. His horns shed blood lining while her hormones course through her body and shed tissue. Both lose themselves to a dance

She mulls over that weird fact while juggling the decision of her clothes trying for a look that isn't too showy. What will Lawrence wear? She generally saw him as an unkempt man. He will be choosing comfort over looks, she's sure, sweats and a thrown on sweatshirt with a red patterned shirt. Hair tied in the same loose ponytail. That's his usual outfit worn day in and day out.

Now that she thinks about it, does he even change? It doesn't seem it since the clothing that hang on him is always wrinkled.

Even though Lawrence isn't exactly fashionable she intends to impress him.

She chooses a decently short skirt with warm leggings and a long sleeve blouse. Going with something that looks pretty second and keeps warm first. She fights the sleepiness in her eyes and finishes her makeup. (lip balm and eyeliner for now,)

 The final touch prior she leaves is perfume. Unlike her clothes, this one is important, a scent can serve as a signature or introduction before she can even say a word. Lawrence is constantly checking out gardening books, it would make sense to single out a flowery or earthy smell. 

(she tucks thoughts of grass, horns and decay away for now.) 

After much debate she chooses warm Magnolia. She rubs small doses into her neck and wrists, heading out into the dark night. 

The hour he chose for them to meetup is oddly late. The streets are empty and free of human milling. Stores are closed, the windows on business buildings are dark. An hour before the bars close and past the time a usual person would be awake.

She's been to The Jackalope once in the past. A kind colleague had invited her out with the rest of the female employees sometime ago. The whole evening was awkward and she never got reinvited but she appreciated the sentiment.

She walks around the corner and makes it there in record time. Nothing changed around the place except the obvious fact that there's far less people. An employee is in the far right, wiping down the bar table, winding down after what must have been a busy night.

She spots the shiny blond hair in the corner, waiting for her. He hasn't ordered drinks yet. She takes a deep breath, gathering her courage, clutches her purse and heads his way. When Lawrence sees her he goes still

Doesn't break contact until she reaches the table.

Wearing his usual clothes as she predicted.

"Lawrence. I'm really happy you asked me out."

She could say 'No one's ever made an effort to know more about me. I feel that there is a chance we might mean something if we play our cards right. I hope -' but that would be idiotic thing to do. Worse, he might find it creepy.

 She sits across from him and he nervously flits his eyes from place to place. "I hope you weren't waiting long."

"I wasn't." he assures her. They order drinks. He gets a beer and she does the same, politely sips after his cue. Ignoring the awful taste in her mouth.

He gulps it down halfway, as nervous as she is. Yet they let the silence settle between them. They aren't talkative people and that's what makes her like Lawrence. Others would try to start a forced conversation but he's perfectly fine with the quiet in the beginning.

She tilts in to covertly sniff him. There is that familiar smell emanating from him. Overripe fruit and…decay. She never thought she could stand such a scent but maybe it's the person that makes it tolerable.

Staring at the amber surface of her drink, the light inside the bar bounced off the ice cube to give her a warped expression. She drums her finger on the table. "Is beer your go-to drink?"

He shakes his head. "I don't drink much."

"That shows a good amount of restraint." alcohol can be such a chore to avoid.

She takes a sip as he thinks. Lawrence invited her here for a reason, an intrinsic want to act on the desire to know. It's been taunting him and growing since he started to stalk her. For years he held off, swimming beyond her vision as the whispers and loneliness grew. ( After finding her, He didn't know what to do with a kindred soul. Still has no idea.)

Since asking her to the bar, he was a ball of nerves. This is his first time willingly spent in someone's company.…what questions does he ask? What does he do with his hands except ball them on his lap? He's sweating bullets under his clothes, looking anywhere but her eager eyes. The kindness in them burns because-

He's not a good person.

 And if he continues on with this she'll find that out. Part of him imagines a world where he shows her all his perversions and she doesn't turn him away. (she understood the river, can't she understand him too.) His brain knows this is naive. What sane person would want to talk to him if they knew the skeletons in his closet?

Earlier he spent the day switching between clutching his toilet bowl puking until all that was left was bile and smoking half his storage. Neighbors had sent a complaint to the apartment office because of the smell. Bitter burnt leaves and overwhelming rot. 'A skunk orgy' a neighbor muttered as he walked past today. 

 Poppy milk ridden dreams and nicotine hazed truths that for a singular moment are less daunting.  Not that it helps. The high never lasts and he's thrust back into reality. Choking through the hazy smoke to find that it's time to leave. Throwing on what he could find and marching out the door.

Currently, he feels it's too hot in here. He can't breathe-

He takes a couple of breaths to calm the nerves jumping under skin. Slow draws of life that he counts until hitting triple digits, then he calms.

 He begs his mouth to come up with something to say. But she doesn't mind his voicelessness. Her serenity eases the worst of his worry

Sensing this inner turmoil in her 'date', She begins her next question to alleviate the pressure. A statement. "So, you are a big reader." Of course he is, why else would he be in the library practically everyday?! She could bang her head against the table with how ridiculous this is.

"I like reading. Fiction and nonfiction. But especially florilegia books, they exist as a curated collection of botanical art." While he talks she keeps her expression tentative and encouraging. Gets the feeling that he's not used to talking so much. "It's an escape. A moment where I can stop being." 

She can relate to that. "Florilegia are kind of the same as bestiary books, right? Does that mean you garden?"

He enjoys this question better than the others, visibly perking up. He must be a plant person. "I do. Vines, and shrubs mostly." She wonders the number of plants he takes care of. The location of his garden can be saved for their (hopeful) next date.

Lost in the daydream she almost misses him adding on a whisper. "I like how they need me." 

When you are needed you exist to complete a function for necessity sake. She could fit that role. "Being needed can be a wonderful feeling. Makes you feel less alone." 

He flushes, seems happy that she understands.

Then he says a strange thing. "They are helpless and can't live without me, it's nice…"

She chooses to ignore that heavy statement in favor of naive delusions

Two borderline strangers, heavily sedated by anxiety and wrapped up in their own world to an almost egotistical degree, attempting to reach across the line of understanding and knowing. He's able to let go of the haunting thought of things going bad to just be there. In this empty bar with her while She leans her chin on her palm, swirling the drink in her hand. Nodding in agreement.

 "Yeah. I mean. In my opinion, Not being needed is the closest thing I ever felt to being dead."

His head snaps up and there is an edge of a glare. Too late, she realizes she said some kind of a trigger word. "Death isn't like that at all!"

His voice is surprisingly deep, gone is the forced wispy tone. She sits up straight and glances at the bartender, who's too distracted in the back to hear. Thank the Lord.

His pink face displays a new energy. She winces, apologizes." I shouldn't have brought it up." startled by his sudden exclamation she tries to smooth over the mishap. Not expecting the turn in their conversation at all.

 But he seems oddly defensive of a topic others speak on with derision and fear. "You've experienced it..."

He stutters and falls silent. Confessing. "I did." the information breaks her heart. 

She reaches across the table and holds his sweaty palm. "I have too." shaking her head she tries to gather composure by freely admitting a personal detail. She doesn't care about her death experience. "That shouldn't be a topic for a first date.," she tries to quickly move on.

It's on the tip of his tongue to ask her what she saw. He recalls that she was an infant when she died and from that, has strange images of unmoving water. He can't reveal that he knows yet.

He notices the bandages on her finger. Thickly layered but the red soaks in a bit. 

"You had an accident." She was in her restroom when it happened. 

"Oh yeah… I was clumsy and slammed it against a drawer." She lies extra prettily while shifting the hand way. She'll take what really happened to the grave because there is a high chance if she told the truth he'd pity her or look at her with disgust, either way it's a goodbye to a second date.

Lawrence is focused on another side of it. Why underwear? He wants to ask. Can you give me these bandages too? Said underwear he shoved under his pillow. Folded so the blood patch is visible and he can reach to snake it in his palm. It's faded into pink from the amounts of times his tongue brushed and sucked it 

He's gazing at the wraps with a need he hopes isn't apparent. She's too sweet.  Drawing him in to be consumed by her flame. Helpless bug that he is. 

They don't talk much, however, the air between them is one of acceptance. His anxious mind is able to think. His body doesn't need to be stopped from shaking with uncertainty. "What do you do for a living?"

He curtly responds "Warehouse. And you?" But he already knows what she does. 

She answers brightly. The job is boring and the men around her joke too often about her going home with them. Suggestive looks they give her make her gag. Lawrence wouldn't do such a thing. He's a gentle soul. She wanted his eyes on her and she got her wish, his cool gaze hardly leaves her face as she talks, 

Lined with stress and gray skin.

Instead of testosterone driven frenzy Lawrence is pensive, would never hurt a fly. Maybe it would be more accurate to call him Ferdinand in that sense. Her docile man.  "How old are you?" she asks and eagerly observes his pink lips move.

 She was right about being in his late twenties, not that it matters, she imagines she'd still be interested if he was batting a hundred. She gives him her own age and he doesn't seem to care.

'Stag' means an adult male deer. A male deer has antlers for defense and to compete with other stags for the claims of a Doe (female deer)

I'll be your Doe. Whatever you need, I'll be. She dazedly thinks as they walk side by side with each other, out the door and into the world.

His hands are in his jacket and so are hers. They should be hand holding, romance movies say that's how a night should end, but she doesn't want to push him. Lawrence might spring away. Stags are demanding things and she needs to make the necessary adjustments to have his company. She swears she won't take what isn't offered 

Yet when they arrive at her building doors she can't help but turn to him. A novel expectation that he will initiate a romantic gesture. 

"Thank you Lawrence. I had a good time."

His gaze darts. Reluctant to leave her but unsure in showing it. His fingernails bit half moons into his sweaty palm.

She goes up one step so they are the same and cups his face. At first he freezes, ready to pull back. His skin is a bit oily under her thumb, she rubs soothing circles on his cheekbones. Her deer doesn't flee. 

The moment she's been waiting for, she inches close and lays a single peck on his lips and lingers, though chaste. Taste of a misplaced sun. Smelling of things rot and sour.

Fur hyde, salt water. She closes her eyes and enjoys the still lips that part in a surprised intake. If you told her she's kissing porcelain instead of a man she would believe you. They are chapped and cold yet she loves the brief peck. It's all she dares to take right now.

"Lawrence…" She puffs his name against his frozen cheek and he shivers.

 Her touch and breath burns into his rotten core.

She's silent as he backs off, leaving her at the doorway to her building. Her final smile is soft. Dreamy. Not a goodbye but a confession. "You're wonderful."

He could be mistaken but she's looking at him in a hopeful way, as if he brought her the world. A sight too beautiful to be a lie. He desires so desperately for it to be true. For her face to be one of those rare few in the world that don't use a pretty facade to lie.

Is he as useless as a moth in this situation? 

Helplessly drawn to the first sight of distant light on the horizon with the lack of hindsight that once reached he'll be burnt to a crisp in the graze of fire. He hates it. 

His throat seizes in confusion. 'You think you can control me?!' He wants to shake her. 'I'm not giving you anything!'

Wants to frighten her for inspiring these emotions in his chest and in the same vein, sink into the hook of understanding.

Lawrence licks his lips, faintly tasting magnolias in hot may. White/green Buds bursting in full bloom. Her enthralling scent.

He decided......

Take her thread! (kidnap)

His plants will bloom and fruit but stay in the confines of a pot. They don't move or utter words of disagreement. He does what he wants without judgment or derision from them. She would go well with his other flowers.Can't stand the thought of her existing without him, leaving him on the steps to continue her life

Leave it for now (+2 more chapters of stalking before kidnapping)

What if her trustworthiness is a lie? A trap set by her because she sensed the things that are wrong with him and is closing the trap door so she can laugh and scoff with the rest of humanity

Sound the alarm and tell everyone he is not normal. It makes him angry. He can't stand the attention

If there ever was such a thing as a baseline for his fractured mind, it is slipping in running currents. He's called to a stall. Yearning to watch her for moments more. The same way one watches a thrown pebbled sink into water.