Oooo Omg 🥺😳😳 Love The Pregnancy Part, Just Wow–

🫠 Omni-Man Is My Jam. Drabble.

(Short drabble thingie while sleep deprived celebrating my incoming birthday, 200+ words,🫡 while I finish up some of my other fics, ready to explode. If you're feeling generous, here's my kofi.)

Omni–Man:

Long hard day of work or doing nothing, you lay on your bed to catch up on some much needed down time with yourself and phone before Omni–man invites himself in through your ever-forgetful window. The persistent viltrumite you can never get rid of even when you want to.

What does he say to that? from MK1, "I can hold my breath for weeks."

So it's no surprise when you're the one gasping for air, one hand desperately clinging onto your pillow for dear life to not blackout from the sequence of eye-rolling orgasms, the other with fingers digging deep into his short hair as he stays determined and hyperfocus on eating the sweet little pleasure between your trembling thighs caught in his strong beefy hands. You definitely blacked out after the 5th or was it 9th orgasm?

When you awoke at midnight, it wasn't to peace. Omni–man never seemed to take a break, almost threatening with an infinite amount of energy and stamina as he loomed over you, your legs draped over his mountainous shoulders. "I'm going to demolish this pussy." And he meant it in every soul punching thrust, increasing in intensity.

And when he finally calls it a night… Oh you could only twitch in response, dazed and gaping in many ways than one as he chuckled, throwing a lazy blanket barely covering the mess he made of you before flying out in an instant.

His message on your phone blinkied in the darkness: 'Be prepared for next time, pet.'

🫵Egyptian Nights- My practice comic 🥹Pls check it out! Enjoy the trashiness of it

Wattpad

Egyptian Nights - Teresa Lace (Practice comic)

🤕(This is just my 2nd practice comic- everything is trashy on purpose <3) 'A convenient arrangement between a god a...

HII!! Do you take requests on here?? I also see you do the price of flesh on here, so you know, i would like to send a request to you do it’s alright with you and if you do what will you take in requests and what you will not take in requests to.

thank youu<33

😯💖💖 Greetings!!! Hello to you too! (YESS TPOF) And sure! I'd love to take in a request!! (Never has anyone asked me before so this is a huge pleasant shock) :-D I write anything and everything (so long as to please your guilty pleasures!☺) except for paedophilia, animal abuse related stuff, disrespecting religions (unless its a fictional one), and scat(😭Very sorry at the moment, it's not discomfort, I'm just trying to figure out in what scenarios-- this kink would work, dont worry I'll do research if needed!!!)

🙏🏻Please understand as much as I love to experiment, write and please my fellow readers' fantasies, I am still not a professional yet!! So if my writing is lacking, I am very sorry 🙏🏻 but thank you very much for asking!!! 

-  T 

A trashy erotica romance on Webtoons!

www.webtoons.com

Care For A Drink?

Trashy Erotica, Guilty pleasures and many life lessons. From fulfilling others wishes constantly, Ivory began to seek out, wanting more. Aim

🤗💖🌏I'm new to tumblr! My pen name is Teresa Lace, sagittarius and I'm a writer on wattpad, beginner artist on webtoons and an aspiring game programmer (hopefully) :D a pleasure to meet everyone! Many blessings to all!

"Care For A Drink?" Is a visual novel idea I had 2 years ago, thr webtoon verison is not the full story! It is just a romance ☆ with probably some plot 😩👍 for mature audiences only please, just be mature ☆ it has alot of adult and eroticism elements and suggestive abstract things :3 I am still planning to make a dating rpg roleplay text adventure visual novel verison soon!! Muhahah ♡ Thank you for your time everyone!

Free transparent kimono/wallpaper!

Wrote this excited 💖☺Nick x Female Reader (The Quarry)

words: 1503 ♡ WARNING, DUBIOUS NON CON, READER DIES.

It would be a miracle if you didn't need extensive therapy after this night since summer camp was about to end with a literal bang. You were also sure of almost two things, one: that you are hopelessly in love with a jerk, and two: you've definitely been tramuatised in one way or another. 

The moon has never shined so bright as tonight, silver light piercing through treetops and ample bushes, reflecting off rooftops and revealing a good amount of the surrounding woods. 

Laying together on the ground with a special friend, one of your fellow camp counsellors, underneath the woodwork ceiling of a cabin that you and the guys found. You wished this could've been romantic.

Today was supposed to be the day you and everyone got ready and all packed to go back home, until the car engine spluttered and malfunctioned. A blessing in the moment but in hindsight, you should've been more alert when joining the others in a party without supervision.

This was supposed to be the last day at Hackett's Quarry and it was suppose to be the most fun. Though 'fun' wouldn't be the word you'll use to describe the sudden turn of events when nightfall came. 

"You smell so good. . ." Nick pressed his sharp nose into your exposed shoulder, urgently breathing in deeply as if your scent was the precious air he needed. His arm was immobile though seemingly slacked around your waist, you tried (key word here: tried) your best to slowly maneuver from his grasp and when that didn't work you just gave up resigned to be his body-pillow.   

Nick terrified you. No doubt he must've known too, or sensed it by the look of that teasing smirk on his face. "Heh- I knew it. . . you never liked me, do you?" Internally you gawked at whatever had led him into thinking that, you felt a gut-feeling you didn't want to know. He literally has you caged between the cold floor and the heavy weight of his arm.  

You took a small pause before carefully answering, "I-I do. Nick, really, do you think I would be spending my last summer with someone I didn't care about? I—"

You grew even more flustered, not noticing his arm tightening the tiniest bit around your waist, scorching your skin. Or was it just the warmth from the heater lantern getting to you, it was a highly probable reason.  

It helped to imagine his soft eyes that would always calm you down are solely staring at the back of your head. Not realizing he was silently tracking your every movement, from the slightest twitch of discomfort at his grip, the fast heaving of your chest and the dip of the shadows inbetween, he listened to your body-language before your own words. "—like you more than you think. . . ." 

His fingernails skimmed across the soft flesh of your belly as if savoring the experience and feeling you up, you tensed for a second underneath your tank-top, he continued exploring without much needed encouragement. "So soft. You're so soft, you know that? Easy enough to slice though and rip out all your insides. . ." 

He was in more or less words, so hostile, creepy in his unsettling remarks. You swore it was like he had sensitive hearing when he kept staring intensely after you muttered something about something you didn't mean to. He lashed out at you, berating you at every chance he got in whispers for what felt like an eternity. 

 It was mind-numbing but you endured it, for the sake of a possibility of "us." After all, he was your friend first and foremost. So you laid beside him slowly, as he watched with a strange intense gaze, you kept your eyes on him too but with concern mostly.

"I'll be here for you, Nick." You say reassuringly before accidentally dozing off to the sound of his breathing. 

-------

That night you had the strangest dream involving an unconventionally dressed fortune-teller and you usually never remember clear details from any dreams, or ones that made actual sense up until now.   

"Hello there my friend. Welcome to my humble abode," greeted cheerfully, an old woman.

"Good to see you are alive... I'm here to help you. Think of me as a guiding hand who helps from time to time."

She sat directly across from you, her lanky fingers folded over a wooden tabletop and a typical black crystal ball tht you'd see in psychic shows was set on your right, pale lit candles and animal-bones dangled in the background as the trinket filled room was barely illuminated in yellowed lantern-light. 

Suddenly you felt a cold breeze that shouldn't be possible in such an enclosed space. The woman continued staring into your eyes although didn't seem to notice your discomfort at the close proximity as she moved on quickly.

"Be warned and remember: The curse prompts the victim into displaying their true emotions in that time... True feelings are surfacing."

As if pitying your predicament her cryptic words were spoken so solemnly, and sensible enough to make an interpretation out of yet vague enough to be ungraspable by your mind. What curse was she even talking about? 

"I'd like to show you some visions. Would that be alright?" The woman asked, lips sucked in, a keenness in her unreadable gaze.

You indifferently shrug but ultimately nodded, "yes. Please, Madame." At your confirmation, the crystal ball beside you glowed instantly and images began to appear in the cloudy swirls. It all went by so fast, a flash of Nick's bloody face close-up and his naked chest rubbing against someone's, the shocking screams of your friends and an unmoving bleeding body that looked eerily similar to yours. . .

The images disappeared as quickly as they came, and you could only breathe hard, staring into your distressed reflection in the black ball. What the hell did those things even mean?! Was Nick dying? Are we all in danger?

You didn't get to think more as the woman interrupted your internal monologue. "Sometimes... life gives you every choice, that's how you get tricked into doing a terrible decision when it is made an option. Beware and be cautious." With that, everything faded to black while the mysterious old woman looked grim towards you. 

"Pitiful child, oh just like my..." 

------

You don't hear anymore, until you woke up, body pressed against another, next to the sound of harsh labourish breathing and a warm breath fanning your face. "Awake now, huh." Nick's face vaguely could be made out in the lantern light, his eyes glaring into yours as if fighting an internal conflict.

It was then you realized

where his hands were, the icy cold touch alerting you, roaming around underneath your sweater and squeezing at your flesh. "N-Nick, what are you doin—" Your whispered words barely were out before he grabbed your body, moving you closer to his with abnormal strength.

Keeping you there confined in his trembling embrace, his face dipping in the crook of your collarbone making you wince in surprise, your skin getting hit with his shakey hot breath.

Was he always this strong? His body felt like a boulder, his arms a prison to even try resisting, It was impossible to find any wiggle room or budge. Your heart pounded even louder than the thunderous rain outside. 

Nick finally speaks, his voice muffled by your neck. "Don't move... I need you not to." You felt a blush spreading across your cheeks, suddenly the heaviness of his hold on you wasn't that bad. Until he said this.

"If you know what's good for you. You won't try to escape," your blood ran cold at the underlining threat. Nick would never... Say these things. He must be under so much stress to be saying these things, that thought helped soothe your nerves while knowing your other friends were also nearby incase... 

Of what? Of that vision coming true? Surely it wouldn't happen, yeah, it wouldn't. Even as you felt the tiniest lick of Nick's wet tongue on your skin, the growing tension in his body as he presses against you, his hands tracing the outline of your bra. There's no way he's in danger, you were going to make sure of that.

You returned Nick's embrace, hoping to show that you were genuinely there for him and to warm him up. This must've pleased him in some way as he nuzzled his face further into your neck, making you slightly aware of how vulnerable and helpless you are to him. And he knew. 

You never thought it was you who was in danger until the night grew on, and you were left alone on the cabin floor, blood pooling underneath you. He came back though, for you. Clawed hands and heaving steps, you knew it was him, it had to be. With a gentle swoop of his arms, you lost all of your senses as you stared up into the monstrous face of the one you love. 

He held you tightly until dawn.

---

😤👍Had this in my drafts for afew days, finished it!!! ♡♡♡ love the quarry games! This is just a random x reader I made, hope yall enjoy!!! Bless yall

The Doplerganger Phenomenon (Halloween 2023) PART 1

Pairing: (Professor) Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader (College Student)

Warnings: Vague horror mentions, SFW. Words: 2911

Tropes: A doplergnager of someone you know...A string of unexplained deaths and on top of that things are going missing from your apartment.

A/N: 🤪 Inspired hugely from a childhood Japanese horror (?) Romance movie that ws titled Dooplergnager!! #no beta, no editing. My first MCU FIC. Sadly I can't find it on YouTube and I lost the CD, if anyone can find it-- the movie goes like this without any gore. An office girl (I think) lives alone at home, uses charcoal to draw on a canvas and is thinking of entering a museum's art contest... but is so indecisive, and suddenly the door bell rang, she goes to see who it is and sees its a blind guy who idk is asking if it's the right address or smth. She says no and he goes away. ... Boom from one floor beneath her apartment, at the same location as her door, another her appears... her dooplerganger-- who does what she was indecisive about, draws, enters the art contest, basically this whole movie is some detective supernatural thing where a detective discovers that some ppl jump off buildings after seeing their dooplergangers achieve better than them. Sooooo ;) this is not an original idea, just wanna honour this movie.

~~~~~~~

Clap.  

 "Listen here. If nobody takes this Friday exam seriously, I'll have Mr. Laufeyson take over all my classes for the rest of the week." Lightheartedly said Thor, his wide voice overpowering the whole classroom, grinning in playful triumph, yet the threat was very real. 

Groans and moans—some boos here and there—fill out the jam-packed classroom, ranging from zombie-tired to actual fear responses. My reaction lied delicately, balancing on the tightrope of both dread and hope, but my heart twisted in excitement. 

Among the chorus of complaints, chatter, and chairs shrieking surrounding me, I took my sweet time filing and packing my things, which were not so neat. Class ended on a very motivational note. .   .   . 

Professor Thor's brother was not one most students willingly paid a visit to after-hours, unlike the other teachers, and looking for him without a purpose in academic advice is as pointless as buying rope from a camel. 

His striking slim features, like his most prominent and popular emerald gems for eyes and boney face, take a stand in attracting many to sign up for his courses. I so happened to be one of the lucky few who didn't check the profiles of the teachers and allowed that to influence my decision-making. 

Beauty is always deceiving. 

And it never fails to be so entertaining to watch from the back rows when another person rage-quits, abruptly leaves in the middle of his teaching, or slumps defeatedly in their seats each and every week. It never stopped Mr. Laufeyson from carrying on the lesson—not even when a wasp flew in by mistake and terrorised the class while he didn't bat an eye.

Until it went after him, he took immediate action, swatting it hard against the wall with a ruler. 

He froze. 

Holding that fatal position, he rotated his head towards me—I meant, the class obviously. 

"Now, any questions? And if there are, you best make it good; otherwise, you'd like your future grade to fall from a height." He removes the ruler, revealing a flattened wasp slowly unsticking itself from the wall and plummeting down with a comically weak buzz.

Then silence.   

"Just like that." 

I held back from laughing, except for a tiny chuckle joining the other students'. Sucking in the bottom of my lip, I focused on the assignment on my laptop while keeping an active ear for any tidbits of information from him. I really liked his humorous side. But there was something else about him that I loved. 

…RING. 

 There went the bell, and class was dismissed. Mr. Laufeyson, with a smooth ease, was the first to leave, and the others and I stalled to watch him before following suit in hushed giggles. 

"—ho! Just now, that got me feeling some type of way." 

Another girl low moaned, "I'm melting like an ice cream in the sun."

 "I wish he used that ruler on me instead." 

Mmhmm.

Mr Laufeyson's back disappeared after a sharp turn, he's never in the cafeteria during lunch breaks but in a way what a relief he won't ever see the dumb side of me. Not that he sees me as anything else except a student. 

But it will change.

Thankfully graduation was right around the corner… By then I'll have a chance to ask him out properly. Maybe buy him some flowers? As a farewell appreciation gift. 

.   .   .

"I heard you used my name again to scare the children," Loki piqued, hands studiously behind his back as he approached the sun-lit kitchen.

His brother, shining blonde tied-back hair, grins wolfishly after downing a beer can and tossing it in the trash, making it over to Loki.

"Relax, it's just a joke, brother!" Thor let out a boisterous laugh, smacking a large hand on Loki's shoulder and causing him to slightly flinch. "College kids need the motivation. A kick of adrenaline, am I right?" 

"More work that is unnecessary doesn't sound very funny to me. I will not be babysitting your class again after last time, a word of warning."

"Oh come on now, you have a knack for torturing students to greatness— and I can supply you with as many peoplee as you wish. Just say the word!—"

Loki's unamusement showed in his thin smile and poise stance.

"—Don't think I've seen the way you've been holding yourself back from having fun these days." He winked, walking off with a whistle in the direction of his study.

Loki didn't think it was obvious but of course his brother noticed his recent shift in behavior, more avoidance. But like all things in life, it would soon pass. It has to. And it will.

The root of his avoidance would graduate soon enough next month. He'll just have to exercise more patience and wait it out.

.    .    .

Friday nights are always the best to rewind and treat myself to fast food on the couch. It's fun to pretend that there's 3 days in the weekend.

Time to imagine the handsome actor in the Notebook as Mr Laufeyson.

"Sorry, can't join you tonight girl. I got a 2nd date with Taro!" Juliet whooped excitedly, pumping a fist towards the ceiling as she one-handedly strapped on her glittery heels with urgency.

I waved weakly at her bursting enthusiasm, smiling hard and happy for her. "Goodluck—"

The door slammed in my face, faint clip-clops of her heels muffled away into the buzzing night, and the disappointment of my ruined plans reflecting off the smooth rogue-wood. 

Welp and there goes movie-night with my bestie roommate… Now I've got the whole place to myself, wowie, nice. Time for some self-care.

Was what I thought before accidentally falling asleep in the middle of a firework love confession scene on the big screen, an empty bag of popcorn kernels laying at the foot of the couch I slouched on. As I finally snored myself awake, a series of insistent knuckle-punching came from the door, louder than the TV audio.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

That is so unlike the bubbly optimistic Juliet I know, she wouldn't be coming home until… I patted around me for my phone and checked the time. 

9:00 PM. 

Yep. It's far too early. 

Instantly I sat up straight, unblinking, eyeing the front door with a tight clutch on my phone. No way is Juliet even close to retiring from her date, ever. No one is supposed to be here and not at this time.

BANG. BANG.

Step by cautious step, I neared the door and tiptoed to peer out of the peephole at what–or–who was causing the commotion. My phone at the ready to call the cops.

BANG.

A mop of slick black hair blocked the majority of my sight: as if this person was leaning forwards, face-first, into the door like he was either trying to hide his identity or didn't know how doors work. Since usually people wouldn't be standing so absurdly close against a door with knowing the possibility of it hitting them.

Or this is a drunk idiot who wondered off from one of the other houses. An uncommon occurence but happens.

BANG— 

"Stop!" I shouted, my free hand taking hold of the doorknob firm and full of annoyance. Ready to give this possible-drunk a piece of my mind.

The person listened then a soft, almost feverent breathing came through the wood after hearing my voice. Are they drunk and sick? Not the first time seeing this terrible combo.

"Please take a step back!" I warned the person on the other side and swung the door wide open in a rush of concern. 

My unsuspecting self, dumbfoundedly, receiving the best shock of my life. It was a man. I knew.

"Well," glimmered a pair of deep green gem-like eyes once settling in my face. Upclose and too personal.  "Hello, my darling. It's been too long." 

That infamous silky voice that slithers into anyone's consciousness for days. Belonging to non other but my– I mean, that man.

My vocal cords decided to stop functioning without my consent. "H…" 

Almost all of my vocabulary disappeared from my brain the second I fully registered the familiar handsome face in my head. His petal-thin lips parted while my jaw hung as we both looked at each other in a mutual deadlock.

"M– Mr Laufeyson?" My tongue muscle memory took over. 

He nodded curtly in confirming his identity, still staring wide-eyed at me as if drinking me in like a new sight to behold. 

Wait he shouldn't be here. I wasn't hallucinating this hard, right.

There was no reasonable explanation as to why I could be hallucinating without a drop of alcohol in my system. Unless he stalked me, which is impossible to imagine the busy man ever doing, even pondering it, to me of all people. 

Hah. I wish.

But lo and behold it was him, genuinely in the flesh, smiling the most biggest white-teethed smile I've seen. 

"May I come in, please. Darling?" 

In where? In what? 

Trying to make sense of the current reality standing infront of me, hoping this wasn't a prank. 

"Why are you here… Sir." I intoned, politely, darting my eyes around him at the dark corners suspiciously. This wasn't some graduation prank right, I secretly hoped it wasn't.

"Why?" A, very nice sounding, humourous chuckle ripples from him before he continued.

"How could I not pay a visit to my most brilliant student? I would regret it for as long as I live." He said it extremely convincing as if it was normal to show up out of the blue at my house in the middle of the night. 

"Right. Um, please come in."

I beckoned him in with an instinctual welcoming smile, holding back the urge to tidy my no-doubt ratty appearence and adjust my clothes as he entered. 

Brushing his whole arm against mine, on accident I think, but he didn't seem to notice, too focused on removing his shining boots. 

Nervously, I closed the door behind him while deeply breathing in the faint passing of his leafy cologne. My mind long forgetting if I should've let him inside. 

I tersely said, ignoring the happy booming in my heart, and gestured to the gray couch. Hoping he wouldn't notice the tiniest shade of darker gray, the imprint of where I lazed earlier. 

"Please, sir, make yourself at home." 

"Oh, I planned to." Mr Laufeyson winked uncharacteristically, smoothly shrugging his coat off him and folding it over the armrest– where I laid my head earlier– casually. One of his hands had a purplish-dark marking across the skin, must've been from him knocking something. 

"Thank you, darling."  

"No problemo." That was not a cool response at all. Internally I cringed at myself while mentally noting to get him a bandage for his hand injury.

It took much willpower not to lose control of my eyeballs from running down the rare sight of him in only his white button-up while feeling his intense emerald gaze all over me. 

Juliet is not going to believe this.

Alright, I'm going to be a good host. And only that. He probably wants to ask about what career path I'm choosing or something, so hold back.

I cleared my throat, meeting with his eyes.

"Sir, would you like some tea or coffee?" And maybe stay longer.

"From you? Anything will do."

.   .   .

Crackles of laughter sitting together on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the cushion behind my head, silly banter over past lessons he taught, tiny tidbits of his favourite things and color (as I suspected was green) proven correct. We share more things in common than I had thought. 

Who knew I'd be the lucky one to be graced with getting personal with Mr Laufeyson. 

1:10 AM.

In a blink of an eye, time seemed to skip over and the hour hand crossed midnight. Even though I felt no ounce of drowsiness— it wouldn't be appropriate to let him get caught by my roommate. This wasn't exactly all that inappropriate too, we only talked. 

"Sir, it's getting very late. I'm sure you have another student to visit tomorrow or something," I tried to sound casual with mild contact, genuinely smiley, and not at all like I was pushing him to get the hint. 

His emerald eyes flashed understanding as he gave a relaxed smile, getting up from the couch slightly slow. "I'd hate to overstay my welcome and have you lose your beauty sleep." 

I chuckled and copied his action while he collected his coat, his slim fingers fiddling with the buttons almost mindlessly. It was a rare sight to see Mr Laufeyson act… Nervous? Maybe, that would be funny to imagine but he must be feeling discourteous for accidentally not watching the time slip by. 

I know I would.

"Oh and dear." 

My gaze instantly flicked up to his already on me. "Don't think for one second I could ever forget you," he closed the distance between our bodies and said my name so intimately. Leaning in, tilting his head, my heart a combustion of excitement, as his eyes shut and he left a peck on my cheek. 

The signals were green. He was giving all the right signals and I'd be a fool not to go for it. Just not right now. 

I muffled my own giggle, leading him to the door as I held it wide open for him. "Thanks for stopping by, Mr Laufeyson. It means a lot to me." More than he could ever know. If only he could stay longer but that would be a huge violation to my roommate's trust. Darn it.

"As it is for me." 

He softly smiled, taking his sweet time to walk down the small steps. Glancing back at me twice. 

He left without a hurry into the swallowing darkness where the streetlights lacked reach, and I continued staring out the peephole long after his ghostly tall figure lost itself in a concerning direction. Only alleyways and deadends there. 

But I shouldn't be too worried, he looked like he knows where to go.

Tik. Tok.

 Tik tok.

It felt like an eternity wishing for Monday to arrive quicker, my nerves aflamed for the entire weekend as I picked out cute outfits in advance. Surely he'd appreciate a different look from me, I couldn't wait to see his face again.

—RING.

.    .    .

Back to class. Here we go!

For once throughout my college days, I woke up an extra hour before my alarm and prepped an all natural make-up look. Taking special care to choose a flattering outfit and spritzing all over myself with my favourite scent until I knew I would be a walking cloud of sweetness. Hopefully something to be remembered by.

 Out the door I went after leaving some waffles for Juliet's breakfast. Way too early but it was worth it.

"—Right, let's continue where we left off before another bee decides to steal the thunder and my job. All at once." Mr Laufeyson placed away the long ruler responsible for last week's insect death, I noted that he was wearing the same coat from coming over last friday, as a round of chuckles and soft giggles in the mix, erupted at his words.

Mr Laufeyson was putting extra work into being humorous today of all days or his mood improved positively better... Possibly because of me. Because of last Friday night. Or I was getting too ahead of myself when he could've easily paid a visit to the others. Right, he's just being a good concerned teacher. As always...

Class went on like normally. And he didn't even glance at me.

. . . The hour had passed.

Hoping for the littlest of interaction after class, I sprinted the steps down to the front of the classroom. Ahead of anyone else. "Mr Laufeyson!" 

Once I stepped around the desk to properly stand before him, a perky excitement in my every movement to be upclose to him again. My expectations of mildly receiving a smile from him was shattered the second he angled his face towards me, his stiff folders collected under an arm.

"What."

 Mr Laufeyson said harshly, "—exactly do you want? My time is limited. My email is on the Google classroom, you can easily find it online to contact me. However If it's a matter you believe is urgent, see me in my office after school hours immediately."

Not expecting this... Kind of standoffish tone.

I deflated under the scrutiny of his sharp green eyes and downturned pink lips, hopes of my outfit and being noticed stomped by his quiet impatience and unusual agitation. Right, we were still in school. Why did I choose such bad timing to talk to him.

Too eager, I must've came across as desperate. Yikes.

"Okay, sir. Thanks," I gave a weak smile as he spun to leave swiftly. 

Probably not hearing me in the midst of everyone else's small chatter joining the outside noise as I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder. Heart heavy but I survived.

His change in attitude was unexpected but not unwelcome. The iciness of it. A telltale sign that something or someone had bothered him. By the troubled ook of his deepened wrinkles, I guessed it must be recent— An hour or few ago, maybe— his stiff body language told me it's a personal matter.

Either I was deducing nonsense or being a kick of delusional away from acting on my deepest urge to confess my feelings.

How could I even help him?

.      .      .

💲🐖 Put Your Money where your mouth is. Oink. (Female OC x Paypig reader)

• Warnings: Paying behaviour, human ATM, money slave to a femdom, soft femdom, blackmail, non consensual humiliation and soft financial domination, soft bullying, the femdom is my female OC. SFW.

∆ MINORS DNI? Viewer discretion is advised. Safe for work. ∆

Summary: You were going to be owned, completely, financially by a bratty bachelorette who shoves you past your limit and wallet to entertain her at her own party.

🥴 Author's Note: First time writing more humiliation stuff (fun fact I am slightly stressed so gimme your monei) hope it's good guys and happy Halloween!! 1.9k words!💲💲💲And to Yall little cash piggies, send my Kofi or paypal some love and plenty of cash 🥱just do it cause piggies don't get a say so, I do.

~~~~~~

It isn't love at first sight but a deep reverence when you lay eyes on… Her. Lucky for you, you aren't going broke anytime. Famous last words until paycheck day.

"Like, honestly," the redhead woman clicks her tongue, tone deliciously condescending. "I'm doing YOU a favour."

Laura fingers the stack of random dollar bills on the high bar table across from you, taking her sweet time counting all your hard earned cash right in front of your sweat dripping face.

"See how good I'm treating your– Hah!– I mean, it's MY money now. You should practise more gratitude in your life before someone else does it better for you." Like a slave, you find yourself nodding along agreeingly to a woman you barely knew.

She sounds pleased with herself for a second as she mentally totalled the amount in her hands, then a flicker of her smokey gaze sets on you in hardened dissatisfaction and your body shivers in delightful cold sweat. The good kind that buries itself in the lower part of your jeans. You never knew you could be this turned on in your life.

Helplessly, your eyes track her newly bridal manicures combing through the money you tributed her, as she hums along to the song being played overhead, a classic nude shade matching her cocktail dress though tastefully chosen– you know in your heart of hearts that it could've been done better. She could've and should be treated to better things. 

A goddess like her, albeit a not-so-single stranger you just met and got pressured into joining the fun, deserves even more. 

Exaggeratingly you clear your throat to be heard over the surrounding chatter, heart hammering in it when you gesture politely to her hands. "Can I pay for your nails? When you want new ones, of course." 

In nervous wait, you dare not to make eye contact until sensing her sharp gaze on you.

Her electric pink lips purse upwards before she releases a genuine laugh at you, making her abundant auburn curls bounce over her bare shoulders. "Awww how sweet… Oh you would like to, now wouldn't you?"

Laura checks her nails under the soft light like she's assessing how much of your offer is deserving of her acceptance… Not that you would know what a goddess like her is thinking, you could only anxiously (and excitedly) guess in your stuffy seat. 

"Well? Don't waste my precious time, it's nothing like yours." She snaps, one hand tightly gripping the tribute money while she pointedly looks at her empty open palm expectantly and beckoning for more. More of the hidden money in your large pockets.

Hesitantly, with an obvious nervousness at this interaction, you fished out a large crisp bill from your wallet and placed it carefully in her open palm. Hoping the amount would please her.

- $1000 

"Wow… Wooooww, I can't believe you're trying to be a smartass little piggy," Laura scoffs viciously, easily crumbling the bill in her hand to make a show of her point.

The degrading nickname she called you had sent multiple electric waves down to your… growing arousal.

"A thousand dollars isn't nearly enough for the kind of nails I want. I can't believe you tried to trick me, Me. Do you know who I am?!" 

Your mind instantly answers that she is a goddess, unlike your delayed mouth. "N-No?" Crap.

"A worthless virgin piece of shit like you should be bowing to me right now, heck, you should feel grateful for every second you BREATHE in my air. Get down on your knees, pig." There was a slight mutter of disgust beneath her breath as her ruby lips curled in displeasure, sending you to instantly bow forwards and fall onto your knees like a loose Russian doll. 

Her disgust further grew at the sight of your eager and willing display to please her.

No doubt some of the bar patrons' curious gazes skirt to you like, some bubbles of laughter towards your display of obedience while most ignored what was going on. You just became another piece of entertainment for an uncaring and leering audience.

"Hmph. At least you can listen, that's not too bad… But I can't believe you're actually doing this. This is so embarrassing for you, ugh." Laura giggled almost delightfully into her hand after a quick glance down at you by her feet. 

"Now go make yourself a little useful and get me and my girlfriends some bottles."

And you did. The server coming by had to bend down to take your order from your position on the floor, an uncomfortable look from them all the while smiling professionally.

Laura didn't talk to you for the rest of the party, just chit chatting with the ladies and other people with a full glass of bubbly. It was difficult to convince yourself to change sitting positions to relieve the burning numbness in your thighs and legs when you'd sense Laura's overwhelming grey gaze over you as if to check whether or not you listened well. 

The smallest quirk of her auburn eyebrows gave you the feeling while she wasn't exactly pleased- she had approved, even without sparing another word. The tingles across your spine from knowing that was wonderful.

You felt that hours must've passed but in reality the night had just begun.

Excusing herself for the restroom, Laura got off the bar stool and in the process accidentally her heels half-stepping on your thigh, gifting you sharp and hard pain. She let out a laugh as she disappeared to the back of the bar while you swear you could still feel the indent and shape of her stiletto heels.

A cute mousy woman looks down at you with eyes shining in concern before returning her attention to the rest of her drunken friends at the table. "Don't you guys think she's being a little mean to that poor man?" 

The drunkest woman hiccuped and smacked the table, loudly scoffing. "Oh please! He wants to be here, it's his choice- if you were really worried about him then you would've tried to pull us all away from here. But you didn't, so it's not that bad." 

"A pathetic fuck is what that is, the poor guy." Another friend of Laura's laughed snidely, downing a shot from the third round of drinks that you paid for. 

You were just there, an existing humiliation as the conversation continued to flow above your head— soon enough the women forgot about you as more desserts and colourful drinks were served

Meant the lighter your wallet felt, it didn't matter because you loved every throbbing second of it. 

You were becoming Laura's personal walking ATM machine. Disposable.

.   .   .

Sephora shopping sprees with a group of beautiful women sounds like a dream come true, especially when you've been dragged along by Laura every week– it wasn't a problem after the first month or so but she ignored your tiny protests to meet her despite her knowing you had work today. It's not as if she cared about you or your hard-on.

 Nothing stopped her from pressuring you to call in sick like a 'loser pig' while the invisible pressure belted around your neck squeezed pleasurably tighter as Laura verbally forced you to spend more than your consented limit.

Looks like you were going to have to cancel the restaurant reservations for your nieces and nephews or survive off the impending doom of pennies remaining in your bank account.

The only thing you couldn't cancel was the uncomfortably taunt and hardcore boner taped against your inner thigh. An order by Laura and her friends for shits and giggles. 

They never checked to see or asked if you really listened to their words. They didn't need to. 

You know they don't give a shit about you, the fact cementing itself pleasurably in your mind as none of your messages to your mistress received any replies. She only texts you the necessary details, nothing more and you loved it.

— 'Ashlee Avenue. Raven's spa. Tomorrow 4 PM.' 

'Yes, Madame.' The only appropriate response.

.   .   .

But there are unfortunate times where you've made her unhappy. Just to what extent, you were about to find out her wrath. 

On the pristine marble flooring of her bedroom in her shared penthouse. Her fiancè at the pool, lounging under the sun and barely batting an eye when you were ordered around. 

"I'll say this once nicely, piggy, since you're going to be MY pig and anything I own should have somewhat of a brain cell left in their pathetic skulls. Am I right?" Laura's voice viciously echoed in the large room, her auburn hair lit like an intimidating smouldering flame against the entirely white walls and decor.

"Y-Yes, Madame." Instantly you answer obediently.

"Good, good! See you're not so stupid, piggy… Understand this from now onwards, if you aren't making me happy or trying to, then I'm gonna have to be the big bad wolf and blow you away." Laura let out half a cackle at her own joke before collecting her composure and continuing, looking down her sharp nose at your dog seated position in plain judgement.

She slowly lowers herself to a deep squat, serious eyes levelling an inch right above yours as she leans in slightly close, wrinkling her nose at the 'stench' of your pathetic desperation to be fully hers. Her next words almost took you out of consciousness from the shock and pleasurable terror. 

"I'll blow your fucking reputation to the ground by posting about you attempting to fuck me, Mr Assistant manager, an engaged woman. You can say bye bye to your career and family if you even have any. The fucking point is, I'll destroy everything you're apart of and make sure your name is too ruined for you to get back up on your feet—" 

Laura cut herself off for a short intake of breath, playfully glaring at you as if you had tired her mouth. "So if I were you, unless you want your boss finding out about you trying to steal somebody's wife, be ready to oink whenever I call for you. It's simple instructions just like opening that big fat wallet of yours for me, don't you agree, little piggy?"

"Y..Yes—" Her glare narrowed on you in warning. "— Uh, oink. Oink!" 

Your brain must've fried itself on the high dosage of dopamine and horniness as you realised you were sounding out the words instead of making the actual noises a pig would. It was pathetic either way, your attempts too.

"Oh you can do better than that, I know you can." She tutted, smug in her absolute power over you. "But… practice does make perfect. Animals like you need to remember their place. Now next time oink louder, cheap piggy." 

For her, you did. 

🐖🐖🐖

Within the year, you've 20 000 dollars tributed to your Mistress. Everything was worth it but nobody could ever find out about the true degenerate that you are.

"Piggy piggy," a lazy beach-themed manicure hand beckons you to come closer on all fours towards the edge of the swaying hammock, the rough sand beneath grinding painfully into your bare knees and palms as you did your best efforts to oink despite the delicious exhaustion.

Laura admires her nails under the bright sunlight and barely acknowledged you, as your nose caught the faintest whiff of the expensive feminine perfume you've bought for her clinging onto her slightest tanned skin. "You still got your savings right?" 

"Oink oink oink!" You hoped your voice conveyed an eager 'yes.' 

"Good, good. You'd be even more useless to me if you're penniless so soon. I've drained one of your wallets high and dry huh?" She laughs without a care in the world, as she should.

"Oink oink!!!"

Yes, Mistress. 

End.

"I won't cry for you" - Yandere Tyler Gaplin x Female Reader (this is my first dark fic🥺) PART 1

PART 2

source: Netflix show- Wednesday

Words: 3340

Warning: Mentions of blood, psychological.

• my note: I haven't watched the show 👀 so this is just me writing whatever I felt could be possibly true from the few articules I've read. Hope everyone can enjoy this last braincell of mine writing this 😤 my holiday is still going on! SHOUT OUT TO MY WRITER SISTER- HMUE LAY. Please guys be patient for part 2 💖☺️ much appreciated for the tips too!!

Summary: Life used to be perfectly normal until you got word of your mother, Laurel Gates (Professor Thornhill), being detained somewhere private after the big event at Nevermore Academy. Now, all alone, it was up to you to take care of things at home and act every bit of what a distraught kid would look like. But you couldn't sit back and do nothing, especially with knowing your mother's 'pet' wasn't going to be taken good care of in prison. You were going to do something and tie some loose strings, like mother like daughter.

____

"Last one." The silvery shine of a pair of tweazers as it releases a small insect into the spiky open mouth of a Venus flytrap, was more self-soothing than you thought as you placed the tool down. "I'll be back after a few days, I promise. So make sure to miss me," you whispered to them, lightly brushing your fingertips over the skin of the plants like your mother would.

Among the cluster of exotic plants your mother had grown at home, You lovingly watched your favourite, the last Venus flytrap snap Its leafy mouth shut before you left the house with strapped on bags. Feeding times were fun and all but you were running out of time, it's the house gardener's turn to look after the plants now.

Speedily, you rushed off towards the forest once outside and zipped your jacket up fully while shivering in the freezing cold wind of the night. You lowered your head and kept walking fast.

Hopefully no one saw or recognized you in the streets though you doubt anyone would, it's a small pilgrim world in this town and staying vigilant is key to not look suspicious.

Looking back in the direction of your home, you gave a final whisper to your dearest pet plants. "Sorry guys, mama isn't going to be coming back anytime soon. But rest assured, I will." If you didn't get killed. . . . Maybe hours had passed by with every crunch of dead leaves beneath your shoes, but you weren't sure and you didn't want to waste your cellphone battery by checking the time. You knew where to go and you had to hurry, who knows if the Hyde would be relocated by the time you arrive there.

The beaming of the full moon illuminated through the woods and guided you towards a familiar hiding place, a discernable cave where mother's emergency car hid in. And you held the very keys to it, in hand.

Maybe you've underestimated the amount of times it would take to power up the engine of an old semi-used car, but still you persisted in driving the mungy brown thing out of town and you did, as soundlessly as possible in the dead of night.

And as much as you could manage to nagivate your way through the woods with having the car headlights lead the way, it was more than difficult to track down the path of where the prison van went. Especially knowing it's been almost half a day since that van took off to god-knows-where.

Throwing sidelong glances here and there out in the moonlit dark, you finally slowed the car down after passing by enough thick trees and unfamiliar shrubs to know you were most likely near the intersection.

What actually made you stop the car were the bright strips of orange fabric scattered across the asphalt road in the direction of the woods, not too noticable at first glance but you were pleased to find a clue so early on to where mother's pet had gone.

Like breadcrumbs leading you on the right path, you left your car, pocketing a flashlight in case of emergency, and followed the pieces of fabric as they grew smaller in size and sparse into the forest.

Nevermind the fear of getting lost as your heart shook inside of you the farther you walked from the car, the chill of the biting wind barely calmed your body heating up the moment you spotted splotches of something like blood on the forest ground. You were close, you felt it.

Then you heard it, among the sounds of the night-critters and chripping grasshoppers, a heavy rugged breathing was unmistakably ahead. With a shivering pulse, you slowly stepped towards the area, turning behind a tall tree and saw a shirtless person laid there against the bark.

Eyes shut, disheveled curly hair, long scratches across his face that seemed to be covered in dark liquid, while his chest heaved for air. In the pale moonlight where anything and anyone could disappear, was Tyler Gaplin.

You found him.

It would've been nicer if you had brought a miniature pillow to wake the guy up with but your boots will do the trick for now. So you gave a light kick against his leg, once, twice until giving up at the lack of response.

You crouched near him to whisper, careful to avoid touching the ground and protecting your zippered jacket. "If you're awake you should get up, I'm not going to carry you all the way to the car." No answer.

"I should've expected this. . ." You mumbled.

It would've been better for you to discover him dead but he got lucky. Really lucky. Looks like you'll have to do this the hard way. You pulled back the sleeves of your jacket and grabbed the ankles of the guy, slowly and gently, lugging him across the ground, all the while avoiding branches and rocks where his head could hit. . . .

His heavy body easily slumped like a spinless leaf in the backseat of your car when you didn't bother to try readjusting his position, but you were already out of breath from dragging him the whole time.

Plus the blackseat was now dirtied by him but you weren't going to charge him, even though you should, considering how much easy he made it for you to find him. (Though he could've made things easier if he just disappeared but. . . You'll take what you can get)

Sure he'll deal with a sore neck or back but it wasn't your problem to deal with, you aren't a charity case after all. Only cleaning up the mess your mother made.

You momentarily stretched your back before getting in the driver's seat to drive, glancing often in the rear view mirror at the unconscious body showing no signs of awakening.

Good, you just needed some time before reaching the next town; Waterbury.

Little did you know then that from behind you, a pair of dark green eyes were awake and watching your every move.

. . .

Luckily for you, the dimly lit streets of Waterbury were barren and your job was made much easier to drive your car into the driveway of mother's second house.

It was convenient timing, you admit, that she had thought ahead and prepared a 'hideaway' place a year prior before the start of the new school year at Nevermore Academy. . . For what purpose? It wasn't in your interest to find out, mother does what she wants and so do you.

Now onto the second easiest task; to carry the unconcious bloody guy inside the house before anyone could see you two in the cover of darkness. Your arms ached in memory of the intense labour earlier, surely there must be another way of getting things done.

You stepped closer to the car window, wrapping your arms around your sides, peering inside with sharp eyes.

After examining his unmoving face and soft breathing pattern from outside, you guessed he must be fairly awake by now. You leaned your hip against the cold backseat cardoor, the bags strapped onto you weighing a ton on your bones as you lowered your voice to a no-nonsense level where he should be able to hear.

"Are you just going to keep sleeping? If you could, it'd be nice to give some answers to someone who's helping you and maybe walk yourself into your new home." Trying to sound friendly while still being on edge was the hardest task of the day when in reality you wanted to kick him awake but you gave him a couple more seconds to take in what you said.

The initial silence made you gave up and just as you were about to leave him in the car, a muffled groan came from the guy.

". . . What?" A weak, hoarse answer followed behind a slow opening of eyelids. The guy groggily blinked at you like someone who went through the most exhausting series of events.

Which was great. You didn't expect much to begin with so this response was a good enough start.

"Listen to me very carefully, I am trying to help you," technically you are, "my house is right Infront of us and we need to get you inside, immediately," while it's still dark out. You then pointed to your eyes, staring straight into his, now wide awake, "please blink twice if you understand, sir."

He took in a coarse breath and blinked hard at you, slowly moving his body from lying on the backseat.

"I–I understand," the guy said softly, now sitting as upright as he possibly could while keeping his head down. For a split second you hesitated as your fingers curled over the backseat door handle, his meek behaviour surprised you and at worst, gave you the chills. But you dismissed it, not wanting to overthink anything for this week's clean-up. Plus, you think he realized quick that he has no where else to go.

Truth be told, it was nice to enjoy the silence. No compliants whatsoever when you roughly directed him towards the house door, he walked himself inside, sluggish and zombie-like tired and looked around warily at his new environment as you closed the door.

Flipping on the living room lights, you were hugely relieved to see not a single speck of dust in every mahongy corner, of course mother wouldn't allow any place she owns to become messy. On the flip side, once your sweeping gaze settled on a guy's dirt streaked back, more work piled up in your brain. Great, just when you thought you could rest.

You cleared your throat slightly to get his distracted attention, "I'll go get a first aid kit, are you okay with me treating your. . . Injuries?"

He turned around fully, glancing down at you with a neutral, melancholic expression. "Uh, sure." You waited again incase he'd give another input but he stayed quiet, zoning out. It was obvious his mind was nowhere near present even when his body stood there still infront of you.

A part of you itched with curiousity at the monster in human clothing, usually a normie like you wouldn't have ever gotten the chance to have a face-to-face session with an outcast so this was the closest experience you were getting. In the flesh.

Before you went off to find said first aid kit, you intentionally snapped your fingers in a audible click to bring the guy back to earth. "Oh, feel free to continue sleeping or sit wherever you'd like, no one else is here except for you and me. So just make yourself at home," you said lazily, brushing the debris and pieces of dirt off your clothes on the floor mat. This house may as well be his new home since he can't go back to Jericho. Maybe he knew this too.

At your words, he slumped on the large couch and looked as worn out as a used car tire except covered in dried blood and long scratches. It would be better if you didn't ask where he got those wounds from, the last thing you need right now was more messes to clean up. "I'll be right back," you chriped from the stairs and plopped your bags in one of the empty bedrooms. The first aid kits are always located under the beds but you didn't reach for them right away, instead, you shutaway yourself in the bathroom and discreetly called the housekeeper/gardener from home to tell them the change of plans in your duration.

"I'll be back in 2 to 3 weeks time." You whispered into the cellphone receiver, "if and when mother arrives home before me, tell her I found a new interest or something believable that has to do with plant species. I'm counting on you." You hung up fast on the conglomerate of unhappy nosies before you could hear the proper nagging take place.

Now it was your turn to be unhappy and act like you care. You glimpsed at the red bag peeking out from under your new bed, time to play nurse. . . .

When you headed down the stairs, you spotted the guy staring out the only unblinded window. He didn't say a word and neither did you as you unzipped the red first aid kit and using a clean cloth, wiped his exposed upper body of grim and dirt and. . .

Minutes flied by like this, you disinfecting and then bandaging him up in a kindof decent sling while he stayed still and spaced out the entire time, hardly knowing if he's in pain or not from your inexperienced nursing.

Only when you were finished did he show a silver of movement and emotion.

"This town. . . Isn't Jericho." He spoke up first, voice less hoarse and more certain in something. Almost sounding relieved yet mournful.

All you did was nod as he fell dead asleep right there on the couch.

. . .

The morning after took too long to arrive, when you've already made a small plan in mind to ensure the hyde wouldn't become a problem in the future.

The days went by a grueling slow pace, full of watching a guy adjust to living in an unfamiliar house and spending most of the day inside his room excluding his walk to the fully stocked kitchen for food and staring out the window while you were out and about doing research on his issue. There weren't any pockets of time where both you and him could meet until you finally decided to take a break from overloading your brain and crashed onto the couch unceremoniously.

What you didn't expect to see next were a pair of dark green eyes peering down at you with a scarred face more lively and less pale. You raised an eyebrow, making no more attempts to be friendly outside of necessity, "do you want something?"

"Yeah, to ask a question. . . I mean, more than just one question," he said in a casual tone. You noticed he was wearing layered clothing, a jacket over another on top of a collared shirt, it's good he took the 'make yourself at home' phrase literally so you didn't have much else to do for him.

That brightened your mood and eased away the tiredness in your body.

"Then feel free, Galpin," you patted the seat beside you for him to sit, which he did before visibly tensing up.

"I never told you my name–"

"Tyler Galpin. Who hasn't heard of the sheriff's kid?" You didn't mean to but ended up cutting him off, and adding in a shrug as if to say it was dumb of him to ask.

"Right. . . " His shoulders sagged though not enough to indicate he was relaxed, you don't blame him one bit. He looked troubled but that wasn't in your business, you already played nurse to him so playing therapist was exceeding your limits.

Wait, wasn't he about to ask you something? You guessed it's probably about the town.

You crossed your legs, making sure there was distance between him and you. "If you're worried about being found out here, don't be. It's a small town but shouldn't be hard to keep secrets." As long as he kept a low profile and changed his identity, it can't be too hard.

Tyler swallowed, your gaze lingered on the thin scratch marks across his forehead and check, while knitting his brown eyebrows and listening. "Okay, I guess you're right," he sighed lowly, fingers interlinked over his knees, he looked as if he was distracting himself. Hopefully he ran out of questions because you were out of energy to use on him.

"I just . . . Wanted to know how are things in Jericho." He paused shortly to take in a shaky breath, "is my dad doing alright?" He looked like he probably wanted to ask something else but thought it through and decided not to.

Good decision on his part since no one else except for Nevermore students should know about the. . . Monster situation. It's better if possible that he doesn't find out you knew about him.

"Quiet and busy as usual, the school semester's ended," you deadpanned, "I'm not too friendly with sheriff Galpin but last I heard– the bear attacks have become a huge problem so there's a community alert going on." Bear attacks that he was responsible for.

Tyler's steady gaze never wavered once during the length you spoke, he only nodded and thanked you. At this point in time, as you stared at him, a lone boy, something inside of you began to fester and confusion clouded your mind.

Like some lost animal you had brought into your home to give shelter to, you aren't planning to stay any longer than necessary to befriend or grow attached to him. . . Yet the idea of watching over his 'progress' and hopefully pushing him towards leading a normal life sounded enticing.

You may have been staring for long too or too intensely at Tyler when he waved an open hand Infront of his face. "Uh, you. . . Okay?"

Blink. You blinked again, refocusing on his expression showing slight concern. "I got lost in my thoughts." Not wasting another second, you stood up from the couch, "bye then, Galpin."

There wasn't much to talk about in the first place and you wanted an excuse to avoid spending more time with him, he wasn't a house plant, he can eat, sleep and entertain himself without your help. That's right, you could finally rest again.

The moment you were about to leave, you felt a strong tug behind you. He stopped you by grabbing onto the hem of your blouse. "Hey, wait."

And so you did, turning your head around slowly towards him expectantly. "Yes?" You say in a nice and polite tone. Hoping this wouldn't be a waste of your time.

"Uh– I wanted to say thanks. I don't know what would've happened to me in those woods if you hadn't helped me, thank you. . ." He trailed off his sentence almost welcoming you to input something, like your name. But why would you? He doesn't need your name to survive.

Maybe it would have been better to tell him straight off that you weren't helping him for his own sake. . . But the opportunity to play a new role you've been eyeing for a long time felt too good to pass up. The savior.

For once a genuine smile popped up on your face as you looked into his shaded emerald eyes, "not a problem, Galpin. Glad I could help." Truly, maybe you did mean those words in the moment but you couldn't tell when your heart was beating intensely with excitement.

Before he could let go of the edge of your blouse, like some instinct unlocked in you and your hand automatically reached for his. Warmly caressing the top of his hand for a second as he released his grip, there was a strange twitch in his brows in reaction but you noted that he didn't move away.

No point in you sticking around after he's said his piece. So you smiled while your good mood was still present and went up the stairs. "Night, Galpin."

He didn't respond until you were already at the top of the stairs. "Yeah. . . Goodnight." He appeared, well, sounded to you, like some wounded animal reminded of their past. Or that could've been your imagination but you thought he sounded shaken.

That made sense, he probably still needs time to settle here. You nodded to yourself.

Figures. You knew he had no one else to rely on except a stranger, you, whose name he didn't even know. And the fact he saw you in a positive light felt. . . Good, similar to the same feeling you'd get from feeding your dear plants back home.

As you laid down on your bed, in your room which was next to Tyler's, a thought came across your head before sleep took over.

You were nothing like your mother, in most aspects. At least that's what you'd think.

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(Updated: 14. 9. 23)