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hii could I get somnophilia with lawrence, maybe some stockholm syndrome too?

a/n: ooo sure!! i luv writing somno :3c

MYCELIAL

{ lawrence oleander x f! reader }

word count: 1.0k

warnings/tags: NSFW, noncon, somnophilia, stockholm syndrome, somewhat obsessive reader, touching, kissing, grinding, brief mention of necrophilia, violence, choking, ambiguous end.

There was something magnetic about the daylight—something that transformed the ordinary into the extraordinary, casting a golden hue over the mundane. It was during these hours that Lawrence found respite, his nocturnal nature demanding slumber while the sun soared high in the sky. His apartment, bathed in warm light filtering through the windows, seemed a world away from the darkness that usually enveloped him. And it was during these stolen moments that you found yourself drawn to him, unable to resist the pull of your twisted fascination. With his guard down and vulnerability laid bare, he became yours to touch and explore.

As he slept, the rise and fall of his chest had a slow, hypnotic rhythm. His face was serene, softened from the sharpness that defined his waking hours. You watched him, heart pounding, a mixture of fear and longing swirling within you. The morning light caressed his features, turning them into something softer, almost gentle. The blanket laid just below his ribs, revealing his bare chest, where the sun painted shadows across his skin. And his long, golden hair fanned out across the pillow, framing his face in a halo of gold. He was a beautiful, ethereal being, lying there and vulnerable—you couldn't help but reach out.

You started with his hair, running your fingers through the soft strands, marvelling at how different he seemed when he was asleep. The detachment and unpredictability melted away, leaving behind a man who was sensitive, reactive, and utterly receptive to your touch. It was intoxicating.

You traced the lines of his face, your touch feather-light, afraid to wake him but unable to stop yourself. His skin was lukewarm, the stubble on his jaw rough against your fingertips. You moved down to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. The sensation sent a thrill through you, a reminder that, despite everything, he was still human—tender and unknowing. Even in this state, you craved his touch, his attention; just as much as you feared the consequences.

Pressing your lips against his neck, you kissed him softly, his sweat lingering on your tongue. His scent, earthy and sickly sweet, grounded you; tethered you to this strange, dark reality that you had come to accept—even crave. You were like mould, thriving in the shadows of his world, clinging to him, and feeding off the dark corners of his existence.

Lawrence stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping him. You froze, your heart hammering, but he did not wake. Emboldened, your hand wandered beneath the blanket, trailing down his torso, fingers ghosting over the taut muscles. He was so responsive in sleep, so different from the aloof man who held you captive. His gentle breaths sent heat pooling in your core.

You slid closer, your body moulding to his contours. His warmth seeped into you like a silent invitation, enticing you to nestle along his side. Carefully, you pried the thin blanket from him, exposing the smooth expanse of his skin and the subtle rise and fall of his chest. You then draped a leg over his, your thigh brushing against his hip. Slowly, you straddled him, positioning yourself above his crotch, your heart pounding with a dangerous thrill.

As you settled your weight onto him, your breath caught in your throat at the sensation of his bulge against the thin fabric of your underwear. You began to move, your hips undulating in slow, deliberate circles, feeling the heat of him beneath you. His breath hitched, blending reality with whatever dreams he was lost in. His pelvis then bucked softly, a subconscious response to the friction.

A flush spread across your skin as you bit your lip, stifling a moan. The sensation was almost overwhelming as you ground harder against him, your underwear damp with arousal. Your palms found his chest, resting gently on his muscles for support. The softness of his skin, the gentle rhythm of his breathing, and the intimacy of the moment created a heady mix that left you dizzy with desire. You leaned forward, your breaths mingling with his own, as if this closeness breathed life into you.

Lawrence's face twisted in pleasure and confusion, his brows furrowing as his subconscious grappled with the unfamiliar weight of your body. He was accustomed to partners who were cold, unresponsive; but you were so warm and wet—a cadaver in waiting.

You flinched at the thought, a gentle pressure building in your core with each, desperate roll of your hips. You could feel him hardening beneath you, his soft moans and gasps spurring you on as you rubbed needily against him. With one final grind, you felt the wave of release wash over you, your body shuddering as you came. A strangled moan escaped your lips, the sound raw and desperate, waking Lawrence from his slumber.

With a sudden, sharp intake of breath, his eyes flew open, confusion clouding his gaze. A deep crimson heat flushed his cheeks as his expression shifted to shock, then anger. His hands shot up, gripping your hips with a painful intensity before jerking your pliant body off his own. You hit the floor with a sharp thud, the impact knocking the air from your lungs.

As you lay there, dazed and disoriented, Lawrence loomed over you, his features contorted with disgust and embarrassment. His chest heaved as he glared down at you, his grip on your hips now replaced by the cold, suffocating pressure of his hands around your throat.

"W-What the hell were you doing!?" his voice was low, trembling, as his fingers tightened behind your nape. The edges of your vision blurred, but amidst the fear, there was an undeniable thrill—a twisted fulfillment. With a weak, shaky breath, you managed to smile up at him, your lips curling in a fragile, almost serene grin.

You couldn't help but notice how he was still hard, his erection straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, creating an unmistakable outline. The sight only intensified your delirious contentment, as if his body's betrayal filled the void left by your captivity. Despite the constriction, you felt euphoric, basking with Lawrence in the sun's warm, golden embrace.