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runraerun · 6 months ago

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Steddie Amnesia Ficlet: 2/3

-> Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3

cw: more head trauma/concussed!Steve discussions.

Steve hears Eddie call after him, but he doesn’t stop—he can’t face it. Not right now, anyway. Not when his eyes are stinging and his heart is pounding in his ears, each pulse more painful than the last. His legs take him to the building he’s supposed to go into, fueled purely by muscle memory. Not brain memory, of course, because nothing up there works properly anymore, apparently.

The Brain Injury Recovery Center.

It’s where Eddie expects him to go. He’ll catch Steve if he goes in, or he’ll wait for Steve by the doors until he comes back out—both options involve facing Eddie after Steve had made a total idiot of himself. Both feel utterly mortifying.

So he ducks into the alleyway beside the familiar brick building instead, just to catch his breath. It takes Steve longer than the average bear to sort out his feelings now, after all. Jesus, who’s he kidding? Everything seems to take him longer.

Steve feels hot tears streak down his cheeks before he angrily scrubs a sleeve over them. Of course Eddie isn’t his boyfriend. Eddie’s funny and cool and he’s in a band and he lights up every damn room he walks into—and Steve… well, maybe Steve was something a few years ago when he was in high school, and maybe he was even something before his accident, but now…

There’s a sharp clapping noise that sounds like thunder. A door slamming, Steve’s brain sluggishly supplies. It’s followed by shouting.

“Steve? Steve!” Eddie calls from somewhere on the street.

Steve’s heart feels like it’s going to fall out of his ass. His face is probably still blotchy and wet, his breathing hasn’t evened out yet and his eyes are still leaking like a goddamn faucet. He’s pathetic.

Can’t let Eddie see him like this…

He ducks behind a metal garbage bin, careful not to let anything but the bottom of his sneakers touch the sticky looking surfaces around him. It stinks, like rot.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice echoes off of the alleyway walls. Steve claps a hand around his mouth to muffle out any of the pathetic sounds that seem determined to escape from him. So much of his body just does whatever the hell it feels like now. Out of Steve’s control, like everything else.

For a few, tense seconds, there’s silence. Eddie’s listening for him, maybe. Steve shuts his eyes and waits him out.

It feels like an eternity before he hears Eddie’s hurried, retreating footsteps, continuing his shouting for Steve. He sounds almost as panicked as Steve feels. Almost.

Steve gives a noisy, wet sniff and does one final scrub of his face before getting to his feet. He starts walking.

As he goes deeper into the alleyway, he thinks back on all the things he’s been wrong about. The fact that Eddie had some of his band t-shirts mixed in with Steve’s clothes… well, that was because they were both guys who wore about the same size, and Eddie left his shit everywhere. It’s no wonder some of his stuff got mixed into their laundry. And the times Eddie’s driven him places? That’s just… what friends do, Steve supposes. And all those times Eddie made Steve laugh? Made him feel like the center of the universe? Well, that’s just… Eddie. He must make everyone feel that way. It’s like his super power. But it isn’t romantic… It doesn’t mean anything more than Eddie being a magnetic person.

Steve is just so stupid. Painfully so.

He blinks as the sun hits him. He must’ve reached the other side of the alleyway.

Steve cups a hand over his eyes and grimaces. His migraine wasn’t backing down. He sighs. Time to head back.

Steve turns back into the alleyway he’d emerged from, only he’s about halfway through when he realizes the color of the buildings on either side of him are wrong. They’re brown on one side, painted green on the other. That isn’t right…

His heart jackrabbits in his chest, but he keeps walking forward. Maybe he’ll recognize the street once he’s back on the other side.

But when he gets there, it’s as unfamiliar to him as the alleyway. Steve turns, looking up and down the road to see if he could spot Eddie, or his van, or the Center. But there’s nothing.

And when someone shoulder checks him, Steve supposes he was sort of asking for it, standing in the middle of the sidewalk like that. He apologizes, but it’s too late. The person’s already out of range to hear him.

It’s as if everyone else is on fast forward while Steve’s stuck on pause. The world keeps moving along while all he seems to be able to do is watch it go by.

Why would he ever think someone as dynamic and spirited as Eddie would hitch his horse onto Steve’s busted up, barely mobile cart?

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and wills himself not to start blubbering again like a goddamn baby. His life is already one big, painful lesson in humility as it is, he doesn’t need to wallow in it.

Steve keeps walking. Figures he’ll spot something, or someone familiar to him eventually. The pounding in his head’s eased off to a dull ache, at least. Maybe there was something to this exercise and fresh air thing the doctors were always going on about, after all…

The thing is though, Steve doesn’t spot anything familiar. Not even vaguely so, and it’s not until the streetlights turn on that he realizes he’d spent the majority of the day wandering around the streets like some lost dog that managed to slip his leash.

It’s cold too, and all he’s got on is jeans and a polo. It’s October, isn’t it? No wonder he’s got goosebumps all up and down his arms.

Then, he finally spots something familiar; a phone booth. Steve breathes a sigh of relief. He’d just call his parents. They’d come pick him up.

He gets the booth and lifts the receiver before he blanks. A quarter. He’d need that. Duh, Harrington. So he hangs up the phone and pats his pockets until he finds a wallet, but all that’s inside of it are a couple of crisp bills. He’d need to break one.

Steve turns, scans the street until he spots a well lit, invitingly warm looking diner. The joint looks so damn cozy that he forgets to make sure the street is clear before he steps out into the middle of it.

Tires screech, harmonizing with the horn that’s blasting at him—Steve flinches, reaching up to cover his head and braces for impact.

To his great relief, the hit never comes. Which, thank fuck. He can’t afford anymore accidents. As it is Robin’s threatened to make him wear a helmet full-time.

Steve doesn’t listen to whatever the person yells at him, he just hurries to get the hell out of his way of the other moving vehicles.

“Smooth, Harrington. Real smooth.” He mutters to himself as he catches his breath.

He pushes the door to the diner open with shaking hands, but it’s blissfully peaceful inside, and he can actually feel his insides unclench as he stands inside of it.

“Sit anywhere, hun, I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice tells him. Steve nods and slips into the nearest booth overlooking the street. Watches the cars go by. There’s even a couple of cop cars, sirens blaring, lights flashing. Steve wonders briefly what sort of emergency they’re rushing off to when the waitress comes to his table.

“What can I get you, handsome?” She asks, cheery and warm like the rest of the diner.

“Uh…” Steve frowns, taking a few seconds to process the question, “nothing. I’m just waiting for my parents to come pick me up.”

The waitress taps the side of the notepad. “Well you gotta order something, hun, or you can’t stay here.”

Steve wants to stay here. It’s warm and smells fucking amazing, like “pancakes?”

She waitress smirks. “Yeah, we got those. You want a stack?”

“Yeah, please.” Steve smiles back, laughing along with the waitress like he’s in whatever joke that’s currently so amusing to her. “I’m starving.”

“You want some coffee too, to help you sober up, maybe?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk.” He huffs out a little self deprecating laugh, “I wish. No, I—uh, my meds, they’re the kind that you can’t mix with alcohol. Coffee too. Bummer, right? Yeah… But, uh, it is what it is, I guess—so…”

He can feel it. The way his mind so often wanders. He’s lost his train. His track. He frowns, eyes drifting towards the street again, watching the headlights zip by.

“…so just the pancakes then?” The waitress asks, jolting his train back onto its rails. His attention snaps back onto her.

“Yeah, pancakes. Sure.” Steve flashes her what he hopes is a charming smile.

She returns his smile and leaves him be, and he lets himself relax. Props his head up on a fist and watches life go on for everyone else but him.

He gets his pancakes, and some juice too that he doesn’t remember ordering, but hey, that’s nothing new. And damn, the pancakes taste even better than they smell. He needs to remember the name of this place so he can come back with everyone. What did the doctors say? Repeat something in your head over and over until it sticks. Repetition. Repetition, repetition, repetition…

It’s around the time his fork hits an empty plate that one of the police cars stops in front of the diner window, lights on, but the sirens are off now.

Hopper steps out.

Huh. That’s weird. Steve wonders what sort of emergency he’s here for.

When Hopper enters through the glass doors, the bell hung over the entry way rings out pleasantly. An angel getting their wings.

His eyes land on Steve and the older man sighs, shoulders falling. Relief, Steve recognizes. Hopper pulls the radio from his belt and says something into it before stomping over.

Then it clicks.

Oh. Steve’s the emergency.

He feels his face heat up. The handful of other patrons scattered across the diner are all looking at him.

“There you are.” Hopper sighs, gruff and exasperated.

Steve sinks into his seat, just a little. “Shit. I fucked up, didn’t I?��

“Just a little.” Hopper chuckles dryly. He takes off his hat and slips into the booth across from Steve, apparently not in any sort of hurry now that he’s found the runaway dog.

Steve runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tic he’s developed. “Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. Just strangle Munson for me when you see him next, will ya?” Hopper drops his hat onto the table and waves the waitress down. He orders a coke.

Munson. Eddie.

The memory of how he made a total and utter fool of himself comes rushing back, slamming down onto him like one of those cartoon anvils. Jesus, how did he forget that..?

Suddenly the pancakes aren’t sitting so good in his gut. Feels like he’s gonna ralph.

“Was he freaked out? Eddie, I mean.” Steve asks, cautiously approaching the question. Did Eddie say anything about why…?

“Yeah, him and Robin both. Then the kids found out too—don’t ask me how. I suspect the curly-haired one has an illegal transmitter.” Hopper leans back in the booth as the waitress drops off his coke. He takes the straw out and drinks it right from the glass. Steve waits for him to finish, doesn’t say a word.

When Hopper puts the glass down, Steve just sits and watches the way the drops of condensation run down the cup, distorting around the fingerprints Hopper’s left. “Anyway, they’re all out on their bikes looking for you too.”

Hopper smiles fondly, like it’s something charming and not… pathetic. “You got a lot of people that care about you, kid.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat, and nods. Tries for a grin, but it’s weak. Probably wouldn’t fool anyone, much less a cop. “Yeah, I’m a real lucky guy.”

Hopper looks like he wants to say something else, but he just takes a breath and nods. Steve’s grateful he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t think he has the energy in him right now to fend off the ‘but look how far you’ve come!’ ‘Your speaking’s gotten so much better!’ ‘It could be a whole heck of a lot worse!’ comments.

“What do you say we get you home? Unless you want dessert? My treat.” Hopper offers with a grin.

“No, I just want to go to sleep,” he says, before remembering his manners, “thanks, though.”

“Alright then.” Hopper glances down at the cleared plate of pancakes and the half finished coke before sliding out of the booth, followed by Steve. He takes out wallet, but Steve beats him to it. He tosses down a few bills, hoping it’s enough. Hopper doesn’t comment, so it must be.

The drive back to his and Robin’s apartment is a solemn one, but it’s strangely peaceful. Hopper’s got the heat on full blast due to Steve’s lack of coat, and the motion of the vehicle along with the darkened sky leaves Steve feeling wrung out in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time.

In fact, when they finally arrive, Hopper’s gotta shake his shoulder to wake him up.

“We’re here.” He rumbles out in his gruff baritone.

Steve lifts his head from his folded arm and looks up at the modest building. He wonders how far they live from the pancake diner. If they could walk there, sometime, him and Robin and Eddie.

But then Steve realizes he never got the name of it. He feels his insides sink. Another thing lost to him.

“Thanks, Hop,” Steve gives Hopper a nod and what he’s sure is a tired smile. “I’ll, uh—I’ll try not to run off again.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” Hopper says, diplomatically. “Let me walk you in.”

Steve cringes at the idea. He’s grateful for Hop and all he’s done—especially the part about not making him feel like a complete dummy—but he just wants this all to be over and for things to revert back to how they were. And at this point he’s so close he can taste it.

Steve busies his hands by undoing his seat belt. “No, it’s okay, really—“

Hopper looks like he’s about to argue but Robin damn near crashes out through the building’s illuminated front doors. She makes a b-line for Steve, who’s just barely gotten out of the cruiser.

She wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go. “Steve! Holy shit, you scared me so bad. I’ve been out of my mind!”

Steve’s arms are trapped at an awkward angle, but he reaches around her as best he can, arms like flippers. “I’m okay. Seriously. Look, not even a scratch.”

She doesn’t laugh. Just squeezes him harder. Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know if he’s okay, but it’s what everyone always seems to want to hear from him, so he says it often.

“I’ve already killed Eddie like three times.” Robin murmurs into Steve’s chest, before finally pulling away. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose stuffy, like she’s been crying.

“It’s not his fault, Rob.” Steve’s brows pinch together as he frowns, “is he…”

But when Steve looks up towards their building, he can see Eddie standing in the doorframe, his dark silhouette illuminated by the entry way lights. He’s still as a statue, holding open the door for them, arm extended out into the cold autumn night. Steve’s insides squirm.

“You got him from here, Buckley?” Hopper calls from his cruiser and Robin ducks to meet his eye before giving him a thumbs up. She loops her arm around his waist and they start towards their place—towards Eddie.

Before they reach him, Steve keeps his voice down as he asks, “Can I just go to bed? I don’t—I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Okay.” She nods, “I get it.”

But she doesn’t, not really.

Steve avoids eye contact with Eddie when they finally reach the building, and before he can say anything, Robin interrupts. “He’s going straight to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Eddie says in a small voice. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t even follow them back up to their apartment. Maybe Eddie’s even relieved he doesn’t need to confront it tonight. Maybe they won’t ever confront it… maybe he’s hoping Steve’s brain will take care of everything and make him forget. Make it like it never happened. Part of Steve wishes—

No. He doesn’t wish that. His brain’s already functioning at half capacity, he doesn’t want to thank it for fucking up, even if it might make Steve’s life easier.

Whatever Eddie’s expression is, Steve doesn’t look back to find out. He keeps his eyes on his feet, focusing on putting one step ahead of the other.

When they finally arrive at Steve’s matchbox sized bedroom, he doesn’t even bother changing into pajamas, or even out of his jeans for that matter. He just falls into his bed, pulls a pillow over his head and wills himself to let go of the day and surrender to the sweet pull of blissful unconsciousness.

🫣 Oops, I made it worse. But I promise the Eddie and Steve confrontation is in the next part! �� This is tagged angst with a happy ending for a reason.

Tag List: (message me to add or remove yourself.)

@morallyundefined @estrellami-1 @ollieolive @mugloversonly @wheneverfeasible @steddiefication @what-if-a-dragon @wrenisfangirling @yesdangerpls @flustratedcas @scarletyeager @snowstar2368 @starxlark @sofadofax @lawrencebshoggoth @stevesworldxx @jizzing-bastard-600and69 @bambibiest @queenie-ofthe-void @lilpomelito @bananahoneycomb @kaspurrcat @deadwhiterosesstuff @dame-zoom-a-lot @3vilpurpl3d0t @loudmariachibands @steddieislife

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angelicgirlmj · 7 months ago

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an angels guide: sunday reset routine

hi angels! at the end of a busy and long week you need to prioritise taking care of yourself, your mental health and your space. i like to save sundays to be a ‘me’ day, a day where i indulge in self care, cleaning and preparing myself peacefully for a busy week ahead. resetting your space and self can be an intensive routine (think thirty minute youtube videos of someone deep cleaning their house) or just simple and short (having an early night). this is my more aspirational reset routine, on an ideal sunday i will do all of this but some days i may negotiate and do a little less. hopefully this post inspires you to take care of yourself and your space.

space ˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

open your windows, let air circulate.

wash bedding, pillowcases, towels and any face cloths.

light candles or incense to make your space smell good.

polish any mirrors and windows.

declutter surfaces or desks (put everything away and back into its place).

fold clothes and ensure wardrobe/drawers/clothes storage spaces are tidy.

wipe down surfaces.

clean any hair brushes, makeup brushes etc.

throw away any rubbish from bins or around you.

plan meals for the week ahead. look at what is in your fridge or cupboards and clear anything expired.

play calming playlist or playlist themed around the atmosphere you want to create in your space.

water any plants.

get new flowers/rid of old flowers.

plump any pillows, refold blankets and make your space cozy and safe feeling.

body ˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

apply hair oils + hair mask and leave to soak in for the day.

do yoga/stretching in the morning.

drink a glass of water first thing.

eat nutritious meals that will allow your body to feel good.

go on a walk or exercise.

have bath/shower.

do full body exfoliation - scrub off dirt and grime from past week.

shave (if you shave your body hair).

apply deep, cleansing body washes and give self a massage of sorts.

drink tea/matcha.

clean teeth, floss, mouthwash and oil pull twice.

apply body oils, body lotions/creams.

finish day doing light stretching/yoga.

face ˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

do full am and pm skincare routines.

ice face.

do gua sha routine.

apply a face mask.

tweeze/tidy eyebrows if that is a preference.

use a lip scrub or exfoliator.

gently facially exfoliate.

give self brief facial massage.

apply any spot treatments or specialised skincare.

mind ˚₊‧꒰ა ꣑ৎ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

meditate in the morning.

journal and plan week ahead.

read at least one chapter of a book.

watch a comforting/relaxing show.

ensure all school work or anything similar is complete or at a point where it needs to be.

do something for yourself (paint your nails, colour, make something, bake etc).

plan ways to stay on top of any goals set.

set weekly goals and targets.

have an early night.

be off devices by eight if possible.

spend time with a family member or friend.

spend some time outdoors.

drink plenty of water.

thank you for reading angels! i hope this post is helpful and you have a relaxing and productive sunday. all my love, m.

#becoming that girl #girlblogging #clean girl #girlhood #glow up #it girl #pink pilates princess #it girl energy #just girly things #that girl #pinterest girl #this is a girlblog #that girl aesthetic #that girl energy #that girl lifestyle #that girl tips

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distantdarlings · 9 months ago

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OUT OF IT // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.4K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theodore Nott has been your best friend for years, but the closeness that you’ve gained throughout your friendship proves to be a little too intimate for the two of you to handle.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV - no protection, fingering, light nipple play (f!receiving), dirty talk, tension, top!Theo, bottom!Reader, fem reader, language, super NOT proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Again (Sped Up) - Noah Cyrus

(Okay! So prep for this was super rushed bc I am about to go on vacation and just got done with a ton of work. I’m very sorry this is so quick and frazzled—hopefully you all can look past it. Thanks for your patience.)

- - -

The dimly-lit corridors always felt so cozy around this time of the evening. The skies outside were pitch black and the only form of light was the flickering, honeyed candles mounted to the stone walls every few paces or so. A rather clever spell had been cast on them to keep them from dripping wax all over the floors.

You combed your fingers through your hair, letting the strands slide across your skin. Keeping your hair pinned up always gave you just a bit of a headache, but being able to take it down after classes was a relief like no other. Your fingernails scratched lightly over your scalp in an attempt to reestablish some blood flow throughout.

After a particularly difficult day, you wanted nothing more than to eat a quick dinner and then crash into your bed. You felt as if you’d been going non-stop since waking up this morning with nothing but a bagel and some tea in your stomach for the whole day. You were sure if you spoke to a muggle physician, they’d have some choice words for you. You could practically feel the dark circle sprouting beneath your eyes.

You turned one final candle-adorned hallway before arriving in front of the Great Hall. You arrived on the later side of the allotted dinner times, but you knew the food would stay on the table until the last student who intended to eat arrived. That was part of Hogwart’s lovely charm.

A wave of warmth from the fireplace in the corner washed over you like a blanket. The sudden temperature change brought on a case of chills across your body. A small shudder flowed through you.

Your eyes scanned the table on the far end of the room—its dark wooden surface topped with deep green runners and dishes of food. Sitting alongside the farthest end of the table were the most familiar faces in the entire school. A gentle smile appeared across your lips at the sight of your friends chatting and laughing together.

You approached the table with the same smile painted on. As you drew closer and caught a few eyes, you raised your hand for a polite wave. All of a sudden, you were a bit more awake than you had been.

A set of bright eyes turned and locked with yours, prompting a jolt of energy through your chest. You settled in next to the owner of those special eyes, allowing him to wrap his arm around you and pull you in close.

“How was your day, tesoro?” Theo asked, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head.

“It was good. What about yours?” you asked. He shrugged and flashed you a smile. He’d never been one to talk much about his day.

You gathered some food onto your plate, Theo never taking his arm from around you even when he went back to eating.

“So, how was everyone’s day?” Enzo asked cheekily, eyeing the two of you. The young man in front of you had always had a deep insistence that you and Theodore Nott would be the perfect couple.

“You’re perfect for each other,” he would say. “You compliment each other so well, plus you’re already so comfortable around each other!” To which, you’d always laugh and shake your head, only mostly ignoring the fantasies that would twirl through your mind after the fact.

You were not going to date Theodore Nott. He was your best friend—had been for years.

“Fine, thanks,” you replied snarkily, popping some kind of berry into your mouth. It crunched between your teeth pleasantly, bleeding dark, sweet juice. It was unlike any other fruits you’d ever tasted, but you never knew what you were going to taste at Hogwarts.

“Mm, you’ve got a bit of—” Theo started. Still chewing on a bit of food, he ran the thumb of his free hand over the corner of your lip and promptly placed it against his tongue. He sucked the flavor off of his skin, then turned back to his dinner.

It didn’t much bother you, just ignited a bit of heat against the wall of your gut. Mattheo and Enzo, however, acted like they’d just seen someone hurl into the dinner bowls.

“Hello, friends!”

The group turned to face Pansy Parkinson. A dainty, but lean girl with striking black hair cut across her cheeks in sharp, even lines. She was truly one of your only female friends, considering how often you hung around a male party.

“Hey, Pans!” The group chorused, offering lazy waves and full-mouthed smiles. She smiled a bit and took a seat next to Enzo. She selected an apple from the bowl just before her and took a large chunk out of it, her pale eyes flicking around the table.

“Why are you all so quiet?” she mumbled around chunks of apple.

Enzo snuck his arm down beneath the table and discreetly bumped Pansy’s ribs with his elbow twice. They were sure you hadn’t seen their little gesture that translated to ‘I’ll fill you in later,’ but you most definitely had.

You struggled not to roll your eyes as you knew they’d gossip for hours about how you and Theo would be the perfect couple. Honestly, it used to bother you a bit, knowing your friends were talking about you behind your back. But with a quick and direct questioning of Enzo, you realized that they weren’t so much gossiping about you as they were rooting for you. Their support didn’t matter, though. You would not be dating Theodore Nott.

***

That night, as you had begun to settle in for bed, you found yourself thinking of Theo. You always thought of him around bed time. There was never really a time when your best friend wasn’t floating around your head, but at night, when you were recapping your day, you thought of him.

Theo had a nasty habit of popping into your head at the worst of times. During tests, holidays with your families, your dreams, and even when you…when you would get into bed and slide the velvet drapes hung around the frame shut, and let your hands slide beneath the covers.

You swallowed thickly at the thought. You would not be dating Theodore Nott. No matter if he did cross your mind when you touched yourself. You inhaled shakily and slid beneath the covers, ignoring the ache in your chest and the pulsing between your legs.

***

The next morning, you found yourself wandering down to the Great Hall just as you had done the night before for dinner.

And just like last night, Pansy, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo were waiting for you just like they always were.

You slid into the space beside Theo and laid a sleepy head against his shoulder, letting a slightly dramatic huff out.

“Oh dear, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Theo teased, placing a kiss to the top of your head. The audience members before you each made a different face at the show of affection. It never bothered you and it had seemingly never bothers Theo, but your friends had a habit of turning it into something it didn’t need to be.

“Yes, I did,” you sighed. “I barely slept a wink last night—I was tossing and turning all night.” Which was not a lie, but a bit of an understatement. Your sleep had been plagued with visions of Theo.

Theo looking at you, Theo kissing you, Theo touching you, Theo Theo Theo. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Theo looked down at you. You met his eyes.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yes, why?”

“You’re clenching my arm really hard,” he chuckled, glancing down at your clutched fist around his arm. Oh. You quickly let go of him and apologized, embarrassed that he was having such a physical effect on you. You’d never been so distracted before. Sure, you’d had these thoughts of Theo before but it had never affected you in your everyday life, and certainly not in front of him.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Enzo interrupted. You turned and the three sitting across from you all seemed to be staring with concern.

“You seem out of it…,” Mattheo said, looking you up and down. Pansy voiced a small agreement.

“I’m fine,” you chuckled nervously. Theo placed a hand on your back and began to rub comforting circles around the center of your spine.

His touch against you was almost too much to bear.

You shied away from him and, forcing a smile, you got to your feet and quickly excused yourself. You knew if you looked back, all of them would still be staring at you but you needed to get away. Theo’s hand on your back was nearly enough to make you come undone.

These altered feelings of him had your mind running haywire.

You scurried off down the halls, twisting and turning, and avoiding any and everyone. The Slytherin dungeons weren’t that far from the Great Hall, but every step you took made the hallway feel as if it was elongating. It felt as though you would never reach it and as if you’d be walking for the rest of eternity, when you came upon the secret entrance.

You mumbled the password then slipped through the doorway.

Other than a few scattered students, there was practically no one in the common room. Hopefully you’d be able to get a bit of privacy upstairs in your bedroom.

Thoughts of Theo swirled around your head, threatening to fall in on you and drown you in your own desire. You had no idea why he was having such an effect on you.

Once you came upon the door to your dorm, you pushed through the door, slammed it quickly behind you, and collapsed onto your bed. A quick survey of the room told you that it was empty, except for your panting body.

You set yourself against your pillows, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. If you kept having such an issue, you were just going to have to avoid your friends for the next few days.

You refused to let any silly thoughts get in the way of your friendship with Theo. You’d had plenty of intrusive thoughts pertaining to him in the past. That didn’t mean you were in love with him or had any feelings for him other than platonic. People had weird thoughts about their friends all of the time—it didn’t make them true.

A knock on the door drove its way through your train of thought. A small jolt ran through your body at the sudden sound.

Assuming it was just one of your roommates, you invited them in. But one of your roommates did not walk through the door. Theo did.

Upon seeing him, you shot up to a sitting position almost immediately.

“Theo—I didn’t know it was you, I’d really like to be alone right now if—”

“That’s fine. I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what’s wrong.”

His eyes were stern with his jaw clenched tightly, the muscle running across the bone rippling with every grind of his teeth. If you didn’t know this boy like the back of your hand, you might’ve mistook his concern for fury.

“Nothing’s wrong. Like I said, I’m just tired.”

“There’s something else,” he spoke. “I can tell. I’ve known you for nearly as long as I’ve been alive. Do you seriously think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you? You brushed away my hand, you—you barely looked at me earlier. You’ve never, ever turned me away like that—and if you decide you’re done with me, w-with us—that’s fine, but I deserve an explanation.” He stepped forward and left nothing but a few inches between the two of you. “I demand one.”

His ramble ended with deep, heaving breaths, his eyes staring down at you with longing and panic, and your saliva nearly getting caught in your throat. If you hadn’t closed your mouth that had been gaping open, you might’ve choked.

He stood so closely, you could feel his breaths on your chest. You attempted to avoid his eyes but it was as if he’d locked you to him. You couldn’t pull away.

“Theo, I’m not…done with you,” you exhaled shakily, “I always want you.”

His eyes softened a bit.

“Er, to be here with me as my friend!” you gasped out quickly, trying to ease the landing of the borderline confession you’d just spouted out.

His mouth dropped a bit as he seemed almost disappointed. Surely he didn’t feel the same way.

“What if I want to be here with you…but as more than just a friend,” he whispered. His deep voice rumbled beneath the pressure of his chapped lips. You couldn’t help but glance down at them briefly.

Once you had, his breath hitched in his throat just a bit, and you knew he’d seen you. You knew he’d seen your eyes dart from his deep, crystalline eyes to his barely parted lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, just enough to grant them some hydration from how deeply the two of you had been breathing. A shudder passed through you at the sight.

“What’s…more than a friend?” you breathed, your voice wavering as you found it increasingly harder to pull your eyes away from his lips.

What a stupid thing to ask.

“I want to show you what it is,” he said. “I want you to feel what more than a friend is.”

You almost jumped out of your skin when the tips of his fingers brushed against your forearm. He seemed to be testing the waters and, though your reaction wasn’t exactly calm, must have decided that it was okay to move forward again. The fingers from the opposite hand brushed alongside your other arm.

“Let me show you what it feels like,” he whispered.

“I don’t want to lose anything we have because of one stupid mistake—because we couldn’t control ourselves,” you said, biting your lip nervously. You knew it was a cruel thing to say but it was the truth. Theo was the best thing that had ever happened to you, even before you couldn’t escape the feeling of his eyes on you.

“I won’t let anything change us,” he said. “Let me give you all of me before you decide you need some of me.”

Shakily, you pressed your lips together and nodded slowly. You were all his.

He smiled just a bit, a shaking breath pushing through his lips as if he’d been holding it for a while.

His hands were slow and patient, carefully mapping out every place he intended to touch and ensuring that it was completely okay with you before doing so.

Fingers traced over your hips and across your ribs through your uniform shirt. Even through the material, you felt his simulated touch eliciting chills across your stomach and arms. He smirked a bit at the way the small hairs there stood up.

“Can I touch your skin?” he asked, his eyes finding yours. You nodded in response.

At your immediate consent, he took no time in easing the hem of your shirt out from beneath your skirt. The tucked-in material had created indentations along your flesh from pressing into it all day. His fingers traced along the swirls of marks across your hips.

His hot skin on yours was nearly too much to handle—you swore you felt your knees buckle.

After the initial shyness of skin-on-skin, you could feel Theo’s hands splay wide on either side of your hips and move across your abdomen and all the way to the back. His fingers brushed across the strap of your bra just as a raging heat split your stomach in two.

“Can I?” he asked. Of course, you nodded.

With a second set of permissions, he felt even bolder. He sucked in a strong breath and, with quick and intense movements, brought his hands out from beneath your shirt and began to unfasten the buttons.

With each button he pulled open, he placed a hot kiss to the skin revealed. Your breaths came in deep heaves, your chest lurching towards him pathetically.

His tongue brushed over the cleavage split evenly by the pressure of your bra. With your chest nearly completely revealed to him, Theo’s eyes darkened severely.

His eyes found yours again. The two of you regained consciousness for only a moment to realize where you were and what you were doing, before you clasped your hands around his head and pulled his mouth to yours.

With a fiery desire, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and, with subtle clumsiness, lifted you off the floor just enough to push you up against the stone wall in the corner.

A shy moan slipped from between your lips at the feeling of your body trapped in between him and the wall.

His lips devoured yours like a man starved. He drank up every drop of saliva granted by each slide of your tongue along his, never wasting a single bit. His hands gripped at you mercilessly—at your hips, your chest, your ass. It wasn’t long before your shirt was completely unbuttoned and slid messily down your shoulders and your shoes slipped off and kicked somewhere into the corner.

As the two of you took a moment to breath, noses pressed to each other and breaths intermingling, Theo contemplated his next moves.

“I want to take care of you,” he heaved, a bead of sweat sliding down his sharply detailed throat.

“Please… have me as you will,” you whined, hardly able to stand being away from him in these few seconds.

The sounds of your begging did nothing but urge him forward, cutting through every strap of restraint he may have still had. He fucking loved it.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered.

He slid his finger down across your neck, tightening his grip just barely around your throat, then sliding them down across your breasts. He kneaded the sore tissue there, reveling in the way your lips parted at the feeling.

His fingers slid over the metal clasp that sat squarely between your breasts, shining in the firelight, waiting for him to separate it.

Before touching your chest any further, he wrapped his hands around your thighs once more and wrapped them around his waist, balancing you against the wall behind you.

His fingers then returned to their post at your bra and effortlessly split the clasp. The pressure of your breasts popped the fabric apart, quickly revealing your chest to the boy before you.

He moaned at the sight of your gorgeous chest and could not resist from placing his lips around each nipple, swirling his tongue around them perfectly. Your head fell back against the wall, your hands clutching at this hair, your legs wrapped around his body.

“You’re so perfect—gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled.

His hands and lips reluctantly separated from your chest and pulled you away from the wall for just a moment. He walked you over to the recession in the wall where the windowsill waited for your body weight.

The drapes were pulled together but you imagined that you wouldn’t be so angry if they weren’t.

Theo set you down against the cool stone and slid your hips against him.

With no regard for what you were going to do for your next day of classes, he roughly split your tights to reveal the bottoms beneath.

He let out a moan at the sight of you—you were better than he’d ever imagined.

Flipping your skirt up, he traced a single, trained finger over the slit of fabric covering the most sensitive part of your body. You let out a wavering moan at the sensation, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.

“Please, Theo, no more teasing,” you groaned, sliding your hips closer to his. The motion pressed your core against his, creating a type of friction that was more than delicious. The both of you paused and shuddered against each other’s mouth.

If Theo had any restraint left in his body, it was this that destroyed it.

He slid a finger beneath the material of your bottoms and slid them to the side, revealing you to the cool air. You shuddered a bit at the feeling, not prepared for the sudden change in temperature.

He traced his fingers along your folds again, collecting slicks of moisture along them. You could barely keep up with his pace, not sure whether to moan or cry or beg for more.

Once soaked enough, he slid a finger into you, allowing you to stretch around it. You cried out to the night air, clutching at his shirt like you might slip away from this world if he kept easing you open just as he was.

There were blinks of time where he’d slip another finger in just beside the other, stretching you farther than you’d ever been before, but you could hardly grasp where you were in time and space. All you could feel, think, smell, hear, taste was Theodore Nott.

When years had passed and he’d built you up to your climax twice already, he decided that he was ready to give you all of him.

The layer of sweat across your body and cloud of exhaustion that plagued your mind seemed to be no obstacle for a still very wired Theo. He was ready to fuck himself into you until you were begging for mercy. He’d been waiting for this for years.

“Turn over for me, sweetheart,” he said lovingly, a stark contrast to the brutality with which he’d worked you apart.

Slow-moving from exhaustion but still eager for more of his touch, you forced yourself onto your stomach. Your hands gripped onto the drapes for some sense of purchase—hopefully they wouldn’t collapse down around the two of you, revealing both of your bodies to the world.

When the rustling of his clothing and the clinking of his belt hit your ears, the entire lower half of your body twinged in anticipation. You gasped lowly as his hands slipped beneath your skirt, slowly smoothing his fingers over the fabric of your bottoms before gripping them and sliding them down your legs.

He allowed you to step out of them before he pushed you back up against the stone and slid himself across your entrance. You sucked in a breath sharply at the sensation, your fingers digging into the canvas drapes so tightly they burned white around the knuckles.

One hand gripped your bare hips while the other slowly guided himself into you all the way to the hilt. The slow stretch he had provided you before was nothing compared to the fire burning below now. Your eyes clenched shut, bursts of tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Breathe, bella,” he groaned softly as he allowed you to adjust while refraining from going as fast and as hard as he could.

It took only a moment before you asked him to move, and begged him to claim you fully. And then he was controlling every inch of what you received, ruthlessly, yet lovingly.

The silence of the room was filled with his breathless groans, your stuttering words, and the force of his hips hitting yours. You’d hardly be able to stand if it weren’t for his strong hands holding your hips up, keeping you just where he wanted you for each force of his hips.

With each passing second, you found your grip on the fabric above you becoming weaker and your ability to hold yourself up diminishing. With the pace he’d set, you’d be finishing any minute and he knew it.

And by the way his speed stuttered every so often and his hands gripped onto the fabric of your skirt, you figured he couldn’t be far behind you.

Your naked breasts lightly scraped against the stone with every push from behind, rubbing the sensitive skin just enough to push you over your edge and crash within yourself. You cried out from the force of the pleasure that hit you.

As soon as you had managed to finish against him, the tightening of your muscles tipped him over the cliff side he stood atop, forcing him to the waves below.

He worked himself through his climax before slowing to a stop and collapsing against you. The sweat on your skin mingled together, creating a hot seal between your bodies. You could hardly catch your breath between the windowsill pressed against you and the strong man behind you.

“Theo,” you whined. “Get off…”

He responded with a huff and a moment’s silence, before pushing off of you. Your skin separated with a sticky pull.

He gently pulled you away from the window, slid your messed skirt down and helped you slide into your bed. He slid in next to you for just a moment.

“I think I’m about to pass out and sleep for the next 48 hours,” you chuckled lazily.

“Would you say I gave enough of myself?” he smirked, brushing a strand away from your forehead.

“I’d say it was more than enough,” you said, rolling your eyes at his confidence.

“Well, I’m yours anytime you want me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, before getting to his feet and beginning to redress.

“No,” you fussed. “Why are you leaving?”

“Because it’s the middle of the day and I’m missing my classes,” he laughed, tightening his belt back to its proper place.

“I am too—just skip with me today,” you begged.

“No, darling, I’ve got to get back to class. I’ve got too many assignments due today. I’ll let them know you won’t be making it in today, though.”

“What are you going to tell them if they ask?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Mm, I’ll let them know that you had a rough morning and you’re gonna sleep it off.”

He smirked meanly before slipping through the dorm door and leaving you in silence, bundled up in your bed and nearly too tired to even try and get ready for classes.

One day off wouldn’t be too big of a deal.

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout , @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33 , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn, @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch, @abaker74, @ilovehotmenandwoman, @kissesbyarabella, @synicaljah (If you would like to be added to the tag list, please shoot me a DM! Thanks!)

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theodore nott #theo nott #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

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✧ HEADCANONS FNAF | SMUT VERSION | MIKE SCHMIDT

★ TW: afab anatomy, pet names, degradation, dom!mike, v!sex, rough sex, blowjob, overstimulation, little praise.

˚｡⋆.☆Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post, comments and reblogs are welcome♡

★ A/N: some people asked me in inbox if I watched the fnaf movie and the answer is: yes! I watched it with my boyfriend and it was a lot of fun, so I decided to write something about Mike yey >ㅅ<

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike is a stressed man, with all the pressure of taking care of his sister, the nightmares and a bad job - which can consume a lot of his energy - he will just want to be in your arms at the end of the day and preferably, between your legs.

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will arrive home tired, with a smell like men's cologne faint from the hours he spent at work, and a thin layer of sweat covering his face and back, while he desperately looked for you in every corner of the house, shouting your name. Schmidt won't even give you time to ration, as he lifts you onto the nearest firm surface and spreads your thighs - if you were wearing any shorts, he would desperately tear them off while he glues his face to your pussy, lubricating it with saliva and making circular movements with his tongue on your clit, enjoying every moan you made, every time you ran your fingers through his hair - pulling him even closer - Schmidt would moan against your sensitive flesh, looking you in the eyes before continuing to pleasure you.

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will fuck you all over the house when Abby is out or at school - kitchen, living room, balcony or anywhere that is empty enough - covering your mouth with his hand, while he shoves his thick, pulsing length into you , without any protection. He's the type of man who likes to spill every drop of his seed into your womb, painting your spongy walls pearly white, while grunting and praising you, telling you how good your pussy is for his dick, he likes to call you a "hungry little slut" with each hot jet that comes out of him, while he smiles and growls when he sees your expression of lust.

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will leave you breathless, pushing you against the cold bathroom sink as he forces you to look in the mirror, you can see the dark circles under his eyes, his naked body against yours, how his cock slides against your wetness easily as he grabs your chin with his fingers - putting enough force to turn the tips white - He would see every reaction, every moan or scream that came out of you through reflection, roughly grabbing your hip with his other hand. His balls would already be wet from your juices with his, while the sounds of skin against skin could be heard echoing out of the room. "-Yes...Ah- Fucking hell my darling, your pussy swallowing my dick... just like that, keep it up please." he moaned hoarsely, as he looked at the sight of your wetness swallowing and repelling his shaft, with each rough thrust he made. "-You're such a good little thing for me, I'm going to give you every last drop of cum, right?"

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will make you get ready for him, putting on your best clothes, putting on perfume and makeup for him, just for him to fuck you doggystyle on the bed, pulling your hair to expose your neck while deeply marking your soft skin with his teeth - From the intensity of his hips, you could tell how angry he was at everything and everyone that night - you could hear him grunting and grumbling about some pay cut or how he didn't get a promotion to improve your life. He will take out all his anger on your pussy, leaving you a mess, your makeup was smudged, your clothes were messy or even torn in some corner of the room, you were at his mercy, while his fingers roughly rubbed over and over again on your clit - making a delicious combo with each violent thrust deep into your core. He will degrade you while fucking all your tight holes. "-You're my favorite slut." "-You asked for this didn't you? You're a needy whore for my dick- Mmm-" "-You're a cumdump for me, needy and a quivering mess for my dick."

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike will love putting you between his legs, your knees hurt from the weight and hardness of the floor. His dick pulsed as you forced yourself to swallow everything, looking at him relaxing with each provocative yet relaxing and hot movement, while the head of his dick beat rhythmically in your throat. The wet sounds and muffled moans about his member made him grunt, throwing his head back, grabbing your head with his left hand while his right hand held the side of the chair, he was going to encourage you to go deeper. "-Please baby, be a good boy/girl and make me cum... Swallow it all for me ok?"

✧ 𑂴 🫧 Mike loves lying in bed completely naked, with his cock exposed to you, while watching you rub your pussy over him, he would be sleepy and tired, but the sight of you rubbing your wet pussy over him, looking for a release for everyone Your repressed lust was enough for him to stay awake for up to a few hours, resting his hands on your hips and squeezing the soft flesh of your ass as he moved down. Their eyes would be seeing the cum leaking from the tip of his dick, his crotch totally dirty, as he smiled at you, closing his eyes. "-Keep having fun baby... I'm here for you."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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johnbrand · 4 months ago

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Runner's Gas

“Well if it isn’t our little Spark!” Brick playfully taunted, twisting around the black cap on his head. “Looking to catch up to the big leagues?”

Aaron rolled his eyes, continuing to stretch out his toned, limber legs. “What, are you afraid I’m going to catch up to your varsity team?”

Brick smirked. “You wouldn’t dare.” As captain, and the fastest runner on the team, the college senior was proud of his position on top.

“Maybe I would,” Aaron’s smile held that youthful glow all overachievers had. Although he was only a sophomore, he had been sweeping competitions left and right. No one was able to beat him and his “spark of energy” that was always reserved for the last second, hence his nickname.

“What do you say we put it to the test?” Brick prompted, his lithe frame already warmed up after a few quick laps. Besides being a bit taller than Aaron, their runner’s builds were almost identical.

“If you’re willing to lose,” Aaron cockily replied, enjoying the friendly competition. He could feel the build of adrenaline slowly pumping throughout his veins. A brisk wind was lightly pushing against them, tickling their bare skin. “Mind if I lunge once or twice?”

“Not at all,” Brick remarked, taking his place a few steps behind. “Gives me a chance to take in your backside, seeing as I won't have the pleasure of viewing it again.”

Aaron followed through with his final stretches, feeling his slim muscles flex and retract appropriately. He was excited for this challenge, pleasantly daunted to be taking on his school’s top champ. Their times had been fairly similar, but being in different leagues had meant the two had never been able to compete.

Getting lost in his own head, Aaron did not realize his bowels were rapidly processing information. His body was inappropriately following through with hereditary protocols, having accidentally registered Brick as a threat. Finishing his final lunge, Aaron registered the dreadful rippling in his stomach. But at that point, there was no stopping what was coming next. Aaron’s excitement immediately twisted into fear.

“Watch out!”

PPPPHHHRRTTTT!

Brick had no time to prepare as a massive fart cloud was carried downwind directly into his face. The flatulence bombarded him, its odorous vapors blinding him temporarily and knocking him onto his flat bottom. Aaron immediately rushed in, desperately searching for a way to reverse what had been done. Luckily no one had seen the incident, as the chemical reaction that was about to ensue was–as far as Aaron knew–unreversable.

Brick was sitting back comfortably, dazed and desensitized by the prey’s natural defense. Aaron had accidentally attacked the college senior with runner’s gas. An evolutionary condition, runner’s gas was a fumigation technique used by “weaker” species to protect themselves against predators. The flatulence released altered the predator’s abilities, rendering them bulkier, slower, and dumber, allowing the prey to flee. It was a genetic trait that should have eroded away with evolution, particularly as humans grew more alike. But some were still left with the condition, making its activation incredibly rare and almost always unintentional.

Aaron watched helplessly as Brick’s skin began to ripple. The track star’s body expanded in size, growing taller, longer, and larger. Muscle exploded across his frame, destroying the slim physique by covering it in layer after layer of pure-grade beef. Rounded arms led into broader shoulders, pillowy pecs led straight down to a thicker pack of eight abdominals. Thighs bulked into true haunches, feet so large that their width would prevent them from travelling quickly without the risk of tripping.

As Brick’s buttocks and pouch inflated, Aaron’s eyes trailed up along his victim's body, following the swarm of hair that swiftly painted itself along the surface of skin. He could do nothing as Brick’s jaw cracked into a square shape, as his forehead pushed itself a bit farther out, or as the twinkle of intelligence was dimmed in his eyes. As quick as it had come, the chemical reaction rapidly subsided, leaving behind a new dumb jock in its wake.

“Hey…” Aaron cautiously poked, the college senior now twice his size. He knew they would have to move before anyone saw them. There was one person in particular that he feared. “Come on, we need to get you out of here before-”

“McNeal!”

The coach’s gruff shout sent a shiver under Aaron’s skin. He was too late.

“What is this, your fifth one?” The coach was shaking his head as he approached. “It’s one thing to be gassing the competition, but your own team?”

“It…it was an accident,” Aaron stared at his own feet, embarrassed.

The coach huffed, “Who was it this time?” The affected party was still sitting on the ground, brainwashed and stretching his new muscles slowly. “McNeal…is this my captain?!”

Aaron said nothing. They both watched as the dumb jock began to take in his surroundings.

“Brock,” the coach provided the former captain with a new name. “What are you doing on the track? Football practice takes place on the other side of the complex.

Brock took a moment to process this. “Oh right...." his chuckle was lifeless. “Huhuhuh…I can be so stupid sometimes.” Aaron and the coach simply observed as Brock accepted this new reality.

“Luckily for you,” the coach sighed. “We needed a few more boys on the football team.”

#male tf #male transformation #dumbification #jock tf #unintended results

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eph3merall · 2 months ago

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૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა ⋮ fratboy!chris forgets about loser!readers birthday . . .

an : talked to my baby star about this. in honor of my birthday being a few weeks ago :) rewrote this a few times lolol

you find yourself wandering inside the frat house right after a party. there are drunken bodies draped across various surfaces, stepping carefully around cans and bottles. one misstep and some bottles clang into eachother, casting a nervous glance towards the sleeping forms—only to realize everyone is far too gone to have woken up from such a quiet sound.

your thumb spins and fidgets with the ring on your finger, having gotten it as a gift from one of your current friends. she was sweet, and didnt seem stuck up like a bunch of the girls around campus. you mentioned your birthday once to her and she still ended up remembering.

it meant a lot to you, only because not many people have remembered your birthday before. your parents never cared to get you something when they spotted the scribbled note on the calender saying "y/n's birthday :p" in bold sharpie, and you stopped talking about it in school since no one seemed to care or listen to you.

the further upstairs you go, the more hushed voices you can hear. some guys weren't all wasted, and were probably taking care of themselves or a girl. or fucking a girl, one of the doors to your right shut tight as high pitched moans filtered out the thin walls.

reaching the door at the end of the hall, it's cracked open slightly as smoke slowly wafts out of it every few seconds. creaking it open, you immediately spy chris in his desk chair, hunched over as a joint sits in his mouth. this particular person basically demanded him to roll with pink paper, which was also thin as fuck. his fingers were too long and too big for him to do it well, but it doesn't matter as long as he got it done.

with a flick of his eyes towards the doorway, chris sighs out a huff of smoke and takes the joint between his lips and sets it onto the ash tray nearby. a faint crack is heard in his shoulders as he straightens his back out just by a little, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. the space is illuminated by a single lamp, warm yellow light seeming to calm your nerves and release the sudden tension in your shoulders.

"what?" chris blinks at you, tilting his head a little as he leans back in the chair. it groans under his sudden added weight, fingers grasping the joint as he takes a hit of it. the tip glows a bright orange, sighing out smoke as he flicks the ash into the little tray. the tray you got him for his birthday. the one with a little deer painted on it.

"nothin'.. just thought i'd come see you," suddenly feeling scrutinized under his gaze, you quickly stride towards his bed and sit down on the edge of it, like it'd burn you if you weren't careful. when chris turns around and continues with his job, you sigh to yourself and shift onto the mattress some more, falling onto your back as your hair splays out around you due to the action.

the two of you find yourselves sitting in silence more often than usual. it's not always uncomfortable, as you find a nice peace in the silence that comes with the ones close to you. but today in particular, at this moment, the air feels suffocating and chris feels like he's forcing himself to stay on that chair. it's just like he doesn't want to be near you, and the feeling comes with familiar memories of your childhood. it was always kids who shifted away from you when you tentatively sat next to them, just wanting a friend.

you notice a can of opened pepsi on chris' desk that you missed, noting the alcohol that sits right next to it. you hear him curse a few times, getting upset at how he's doing with his "job". he takes casual hits of the joint, and you watch his back shift as slender fingers grab the neck of a bottle of alcohol to sip at.

you pull your phone out to be met with more birthday messages. but, you only desire those two words from a certain someone.

the day goes on and you end up in chris' bed, under his sheets, with a book in your lap. unsurprisingly, a party has broken out downstairs, the walls and floors of the frat house vibrating from the blaring music. it's late already, and most people have classes to attend tomorrow. but, most people who were at frat parties frequently never did care about their academics anyways.

you dont know how long its been, but a certain amount of time passes. a stumbling chris is cursing when he trips over his own foot, shutting his room door behind him once wobbling inside. you can instantly tell he's wasted and gotten a few hits of some drug earlier. what you dont expect is for him to eye you, drunkenly grin, and then immediately walk over to lay his whole body down onto your own.

groaning at the impact, chris looks like he could give less of a fuck. his eyes glance up and his hand runs through unkept curls, a goofy smirk stretching across his face. his hands are on your hips and you brace your hands on his shoulders, not in the mood for whatever he wanted to do right now.

with a sigh, you give up when chris shoots you a look like you've gone crazy, letting his face push itself into your neck. very rarely is he like this around you, because when he's wasted he usually just turns meaner. you deflate when soft kisses are pressed into your neck, his hair tickling your face.

"i heard.." smooch, "it," smooch, "was your birthday," you feign ignorance, like you've known all along he would remember as you laugh softly, chris being too out of his head to notice the tone of your voice anyways. your hands grow sweaty and clammy, hating the way a thick rope seems to wrap around your neck, making the words you squeak out sound small and pathetic.

"yeah, i guess."

"sorry," smooch, "didn't remember," chris' nose nudges against your jawline, his face suddenly in front of yours—looking so unlike his usual expression. you kind of hate it. with this chris, everything is almost unexpected, and you are never sure on what to do next and what type of reaction it'll trigger.

"i love you, y'know?.."

you don't hear the words at first. you think maybe you're too exhausted and you're hearing things, eyes wide as you blink frantically. you hands still, body tensing up. because that doesn't sound at all like something chris would say. he once refused to hold hands with you for the sole reason that they were in public and he was 'scared people would assume'.

you don't think it's anything. why would you? until the words are getting mumbled against your skin and repeated over and over and over in your ears. like a quiet prayer, full of hope and desperation.

you know it's the alcohol talking. that and whatever else chris took tonight, that he isn't sober and you know deep down he would never say anything like this sober. when you end up coming to your senses, you let your eyes close and try to shift him off of you.

"stop. chris."

even with your firm tone and obvious unpleasant emotions, he doesn't pick up on them. little murmurs of affection graze your skin—your cheeks, forehead, tip of your nose, jawline, lips, neck. you hate it, in a way. chris doesn't ease up, groaning when you eventually shove him harder than normal.

"chris, stop. you don't mean that, you know you don't."

he doesn't say anything, just leans in slowly to press a kiss to your cheek. testing the waters, to see if you'll push him away again.

you've always been weak to him, 'stop' leaving your mouth every time he says something sweet. it unsettles you, because it was so hard to deny him. you know he doesn't mean it. you know he'll deny this ever happened and possibly forget about it the next morning. it'll barely leave a mark on him, while it'll probably scar you forever.

"happy birthday.. love you, m'so in love w'you."

"chris.."

—

©eph3merall 2025

#ᶻz eph3merall #ೀ fratboy!chris #ೀ loser!reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo prompt #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo angst

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 20 days ago

Text

Off The Beaten Path.

Part One

Summary: Nivea Douglas takes Terry Richmond into her home after he saves her. Terry doesn’t want to be a burden, but Nivea insists.

Author’s Note: back with another story for Terry! This one will be short chapters. It’s just easier to write. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Obession, Smut, Primal Kink.

Silently, he prowled through the forest, crushing grass and twigs alike beneath his unsteady stride. His unseeing eyes flicked across the trees that passed in a blurry mix of greens and browns, searching mindlessly for his next victim.

He was only sixteen.

The evening sun had already started to set, casting the quiet forest in a haze of blood red hues. The forest was dead silent. His heavy steps were enough warning to send its usual inhabitants scurrying away to their hiding places. Even birds dared not to frequent the sky above his path, well aware of what consequences would await them. Instead, the forest remained hushed, as if every living thing was watching with bated breath as he trudged a path through the rich amber oak trees that shifted lightly in the crisp evening breeze.

He welcomed the numbing sensation in his sore, aching limbs when the crisp, winter air had grown colder and stronger.

Though he refused to look, he knew that bruises already painted the majority of his wretched flesh. Most of the pain had faded to haunting memories, however, his most recent mark still burned. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he continued on his path. One leg moved after the other in a steady rhythm. What little control he had left was slowly removed as the curse flowed through his bloodstream, igniting the beast.

There was nothing he could do now but watch the creature inside of him surface, taking full control to do it’s bidding.

Suddenly, he heard something.

A light, airy laugh rang out throughout the clearing. It was a jarring sound, bright, beautiful, and full of life, unlike anything he’d ever heard. Momentarily, he could feel himself surface, gaining control to savor the enchanting sound. However, the moment came and passed in a breath and the beast came forward, regaining control of his body and forcing him back to become a prisoner in his mind once more…

———

Present Day:

Nivea could almost taste victory as she sprinted along a winding dirt path towards the finish line. Her bohemian locs swept up into a ponytail oscillated across her upper back and the forest green GymShark matching set she wore felt more compressed from the amount of sweat that seeped from her pores. Heart pounding, ragged breaths unheard because of her AirPods, Nivea charged ahead, ignoring the burning in her glutes and thighs.

Beyoncé– America Has A Problem pounded her eardrums pleasantly. Her pink and green HOKA running shoes cushioned her size eight feet from the gravel and twigs. Running along Moon Seed Loop was an early morning ritual for Nivea. She’d been doing it faithfully since moving into her new Victorian style home with a wrap around porch.

Acadiana Park is a jewel in Upper Lafayette. It’s a beautiful place to wander with your kids, family and friends. An afternoon along the trails is more than just exciting—it’s an easy way to work in some exercise and learn a thing or two about the Park’s rich, natural landscape. Expect to see countless varieties of trees, fish and birds along the trails and beautiful waterways.

Nivea was hired as the sole Veterinarian for a pet clinic not too far from her home after moving to Louisiana from Phoenix, Arizona. She started out at The University of Arizona and after graduating she moved to the UK to study abroad and later received her doctorate. It granted her opportunities to spend time in Australia, South Africa, The Caribbean, and New Zealand. She’s in her early forties now, never been married, dated here and there, only having one long term relationship with a guy she knew from high school.

To be daring is to be bold, adventurous, and a little nervy. It’s a quality possessed by people who tend to take risks. Nivea had an audacious approach to life. Leaping off cliffs, skydiving, mountain climbing, swimming with sharks, even the little things like getting a tattoo or racing a motorcycle and even crowd surfing. Reckless and venturesome. Athletic and beautiful. She’d gotten those qualities from her late father. He was a veteran haunted by memories of the war.

Her mother, a free–spirited woman born in Trinidad and raised in New York, took a chance and moved to Phoenix where she’d met Nivea’s father who at the time still served in The Military. Nivea didn’t stay in one place for too long, a military brat who embraced a new scenery. Like her mother, Nivea didn’t have a problem with change. She embraced it.

Just like she embraced the burning in her lungs and the way her muscles ached. At the end of her run, Nivea slowed down and began smiling in victory. She placed her hands on her hips to catch her breath before pausing her music. Cracking her neck, Nivea perched her back against an old oak tree to settle her nerves before making the trip back to her car.

She licked her full, bottom lip, tasting the saltiness of her sweat. The sheen along her honeyed-skin gave her a glow similar to gold. The sun's rays tickled her melanin skin as she pushed her toned legs to the end of the forest and toward her parked vehicle. She dusted her edges with her fingers, reminding herself that she was in need of a hair appointment since it had been some months since her last one.

Her Toyota 4Runner in a desert sand color came to life with a click of a button on her key fob. Beyoncé’s mezzo–soprano voice could be heard from the speakers since her Bluetooth had connected. Nivea removed her fanny pack and opened her driver’s side door, flinging it in the passenger seat before taking a generous swig of water from her navy–blue Yeti cup. Keys in the ignition, Nivea didn’t waste time driving off, leaving her tire tracks and dirt dust behind.

_________

Sitting in his pitch black Dually, a sudden early fall rain showering it, his iridescent eyes were unwavering and intense beyond the boldness of his thick lashes as he watched his new obsession sprint through the forest. Like clockwork every morning, he waited to see her, an overwhelming sensation growing within his chest cavity so strong. Large, calloused hands grip his steering wheel firmly and his nostrils flare.

The first time he saw her, his heart fell. The second time he saw her, his heart fell. The third time, fourth time, fifth time, and every time since, his heart had fallen. He stared at her, and each time a sudden, overwhelming, and involuntary feeling of deep connection and devotion would consume him. It was immediate and intense. She’d thrown a wrench into his routine. Couturie Forest was one of the few areas he could escape and not feel as if he’d run into trouble.

She is the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her hair, her eyes, her lips, her body that she worked so hard on, the way she walked, the way she smiled and laughed and the way her cheeks dropped when she’s mad or upset. The way she dragged her feet when she was tired after a long shift. Every single thing about her is beautiful.

He stared at her, tracking her with his eyes, taking in every detail even from the distance between them. When he sees her the world stops. It stops and all that exists for him is her and his eyes staring at her. There’s nothing else. No noise, no other people, no thoughts or worries, no yesterday, no tomorrow. The world just stops and it is a beautiful place and there is only her. Just her, and his eyes never leaving her.

He stared. He traced with his eyes that flicker between a kaleidoscope of colors, sparkling with longing and his stomach tightening because of the powerful, almost gravitational pull that feels inescapable. She’d trapped him and he hadn’t even smelled her yet. Licked her. Traced his fingers along her skin. Filled her.

When she’s gone, the world starts again, and he doesn't like it as much. He can live in it, but he doesn't like it. He’d just walk around in it and wait to see her again and wait for it to stop again. He loved when it stopped. It’s the best fucking thing he’d ever known or ever felt, the best thing, and that, beautiful woman is why he can’t ever just leave.

A part of him wished he knew how to quit her. The strong sense of loyalty and dedication to her made it nearly impossible. Quite frankly, it is impossible. Once it happens…it happens. This wasn’t fate. Fated mates are predetermined or destined partners. No…this was sudden. Sparked immediately. An unbreakable connection that awakened his protective instincts. It was so instantaneous. He’s far from that. He needed to be in control at all times.

Turning the key in the ignition, his truck rumbled to life and suddenly his tires began to move him beyond the damp soil and onto the roadway. Jaw clenched, the sun began to peek out, his eyes appearing to have golden flecks in a sea of green. He tapped the brake pedal with his boot–covered foot until her 4Runner came into view. As soon as it came into view, his heart fell again. He waited and then he was off, trailing behind her.

The ride lasted twenty minutes and he found himself staring at her beautiful body swaying up the steps and toward her front door. He stroked his bottom lip with his thumb, staring at the home. He couldn’t get too close because she had surveillance. It wouldn’t look good showing up uninvited. He had to settle for watching her. Hoping that he would introduce himself to her. It’s been a long two weeks.

_________

Nivea took off her shoes within the foyer of her home. Her Great Dane with its square jaw and imposing size galloped up to her and stood on its hind legs to greet her. Nivea giggled at her dog, rubbing it before walking away. Before taking a much needed shower, Nivea made a quick stop into her uniquely decorated kitchen with its vintage appliances and greenery. She opened her Big Chill Retro Fridge in a canary-yellow color and grabbed a pitcher of filtered water.

Nivea proceeded to pour the water into a tea kettle on the front left burner of her 1950’s vintage oven. Flames ignited the pot and Nivea took that time to prepare her ceramic mug with some organic lavender tea. She scooped some tea herbs from a mason jar into the mug and retrieved her tea spoon. Coco, Nivea’s large yet gentile dog, followed her towards the kitchen table, earning a few scratches behind her ears.

Staring out of the large window overlooking her garden, Nivea thought about her date that evening. She’d agreed to go to dinner with a man named Ian who’s German shepherd she’d taken care of. Nivea was wary about Ian for a while, because he’s recently divorced. The man was persistent in asking her out, even when his legal troubles were ongoing. That charming smile and carob skin distracted her and she couldn’t help but smile whenever he’d come in with his dog. Ian with his salt and pepper locs, well–muscled frame, and charisma.

The whistle of the kettle had Nivea standing from her seat. She turned off the stove top and poured the water into her mug. Nivea allowed it to steep for five minutes before taking a small sip of the hot tea, shutting her eyes as the immediate calming and therapeutic effects wash over her. With her tea, Nivea left her kitchen and made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. On the second floor landing, she paused to sip her tea again.

What was she going to wear? A dress? Jeans and a cute blouse? Heels? Flats? The sound of the shower beyond the master bathroom filled her spacious bedroom as she combed through racks of clothes within her narrow walk–in closet. Multiple dresses were left discarded as she tossed them to the side. She still had hours to go before her date, but the thought of entering the dating scene again sparked her anxiety tremendously.

While nervousness is expected when meeting a new person, dating anxiety is more intense and long lasting. Nivea’s long term relationship caused her emotional and physical pain. Her ex fiance had been controlling and manipulative for years, one of the reasons why she’d left Arizona behind. While he moved on as if nothing happened, Nivea lived in fear of meeting someone new.

Nivea settled on a ruffled halter mini dress in red with a black moto jacket and distressed black heeled boots. She pinned her locs up and undressed herself, tossing her dirty athletic attire into her bin. She entered her bathroom and stepped into the shower. Nivea took her time cleansing, exfoliating, and moisturizing. Back in her room, she slipped on a thin, graphic T-shirt and loose sleep shorts with fuzzy socks. Locs in a messy bun, Nivea left her room with her mug in hand to enter her office for a bit of light reading.

Entering her office, she opened her window to allow a breeze in. The smell of rain and grass filled her nose as she curled up on her reading chair. Opening her smut book to where she left off, Nivea pursed her full lips to fight the urge to smile. She couldn’t wait to finish where she’d left off. Meanwhile, the black truck out front hadn’t made an effort to leave.

___________

“Table for two, please.”

The cool evening air transitioned into toasty coziness as they entered a semi–crowded Steak House. Pleasant, savory smells and the clatter of utensils against plates teased their senses. Nivea clung onto Ian’s bicep as her eyes swept over the restaurant in anticipation. The hostess, a pleasant Asian girl with long, shiny black hair and a pointy face, gathered two menus before leading them away from the booth and towards a table shrouded in a low ambiance.

“Thank you…”

Ian worked to pull out Nivea’s chair. She smiled at him with her ruby-red lips. Ian pushed her in closer before taking his place across from her. They locked eyes for a brief moment before staring down at the menus before them.

“I know I’ve said it before, but…you look beautiful.”

Nivea smiled, “Thank you, Ian. You look very handsome.”

Ian wore a black Lacoste polo shirt and khaki pants with black dress shoes. He had a fresh retwist, locs falling over his broad shoulders.

“Did you work today?” Ian asked.

Their waiter made his way over, a tall, white male with sandy brown hair and dark blue eyes that reminded Nivea of the Pacific Ocean. His name is Ben. Ben filled their water glasses and vowed to return shortly to take their orders.

“I had an off day. Went for my morning run in the forest and spent the remaining day inside. Something I cherish when I can since my schedule is full most of the time. You?”

“Detective work never dies. Working this case that’s taking a toll on me…”

Ian released a stressful sigh.

“…do you want to talk about it?” Nivea questioned cautiously.

“Nah. I don’t want to unsettle what’s supposed to be a romantic evening,” Ian smiled faintly, “Tell me a little more about you, Nivea. What does a Veterinarian do for fun?”

Nivea chuckled, “I make the most of life. I love to travel, I’m an adrenaline junkie…yes, yes. While I do love a good time, I have my moments where being alone with my Coco is enough. Reading, meditating, gardening…I do a little bit of everything.”

“Kickboxing? Let’s not forget that.” Ian mentioned with a smirk.

“Oh yeah, how can I overlook that,” Nivea replied sarcastically, “Didn’t mean to startle you with my high kick.”

“That leg is lethal,” Ian laughs, “I mean, seriously. We could use you on our team.”

Nivea giggled behind her hand, “How would I be of use to you? What would a kick do to take down an armed killer?”

“You’d be surprised.” Ian quipped.

“Sure,” Nivea’s dimpled smile increased, “Tell me about the case.”

“Eager, are you?”

“Let’s just say…I’m a true crime lover. It fascinates me.”

Ben made his way back over. Ian ordered a bottle of red wine and oysters.

“This case isn’t for the faint hearted, Nivea.”

“My heart isn’t a home for cowardice,” Nivea replied.

Ian looked upon her with a deep stare that seemed intrigued and surprised by her words. Nivea simply smiled, one brow arched.

“Okay. I’m sure you’ve heard about the missing hikers from Monroe?”

“I have. The two couples…”

“Yeah…well…they’ve been found. And…all four are dead. Bodies mutilated and buried beneath a slashed tent on Palmetto Island Campground.”

“Goodness…mutilated?”

“Disfigured. Large slash marks and bludgeoned.”

“You don’t think an animal had something to do with it?”

Ian shook his head, “We’ve looked into that. There’s no way. Their wallets and other personal belongings are missing as well. Someone did this. No eye witnesses.”

“Jesus,” Nivea accepted her filled glass of wine from Ben, “Any signs of a struggle? Defensive wounds?”

“Yes. You could tell they tried to escape. Two bodies were found away from the campsite. They received the worst possible attacks.”

“Scary…”

Ian nodded his head in agreement, “Shaken up?”

Nivea glanced over at him with a tiny hint of a smile, “A little. Maybe I should be careful running alone in the forest while a killer is at large in Lafayette.”

“Maybe you should run on a treadmill for a while instead.”

Nivea giggled.

“I’m serious, Nivea.” Ian said.

“I’ll be fine, Ian. I run along the Moon Seed Loop trail.”

“What difference does it make? You’d be better off in a gym.”

Nivea shifted in her seat. Ian sensed her unease.

“Sorry. I just…I want you to be safe.”

“I appreciate it. Really. I know it’s in your nature to worry. But I’ll be fine.”

Ian took a sip of his wine. Their oysters arrived and Nivea ordered red snapper.

“Fish at a steakhouse?” Ian teases.

“I’m pescatarian.”

“Oh–I didn’t know—”

“It’s okay. I used to love red meat at one point. That was ten years ago.”

“Next time, I’ll take you to my favorite seafood place.” Ian vowed.

Nivea smirked beautifully, “Next time?”

“Absolutely. I’m going to do whatever it takes to win your heart.” Ian confessed.

“Woah there, tiger,” Nivea said, “Still have to get through date number one.”

“I have a lot of work to do then.”

“Damn right,” Nivea replied.

“It’s worth it. You’re worth the trouble.” Ian said.

“Good trouble.” Nivea replied with a tilt of her glass.

They shared a look. One filled with excitement and anticipation.

“Why Lafayette? Phoenix is a great city.” Ian asked.

“Got tired of the desert.”

Ian laughs, “Seriously. Why the sudden change?”

Nivea shrugged a single shoulder, “I wanted a fresh start. My love life was at its end. They offered me a hefty salary here. I’ve always loved Louisiana. Didn’t see why not.”

“Ex boyfriend?”

“Ex fiancée,” Nivea dramatically enunciated.

“Oh? You were engaged?”

“To a narcissist. One of which scarred me for life. One I kept going back to even after he’d proven to me time and time again I meant nothing to him.”

Nivea drank some of her wine to conceal the tightness in her throat. So long ago yet so fresh.

“I’m sorry, Nivea. I know what it’s like.”

Nivea cleared her throat, “Your ex wife?”

“Shannon. We built a life together. Had two children. She had an affair with her personal trainer. Threw away almost twenty years of marriage.”

Nivea didn’t know what to say. She’d been cheated on in the past, but in the same breath, she’d done the cheating herself. New dick to numb the pain. That ‘we shouldn’t be doing this’ rump. She could recall how good it had felt to have another man make her cum on his dick and take his cum down her throat. Going back home to her ex fiance with the stench of another man on her.

“The divorce was amicable I guess?” Nivea asked after a long, awkward pause.

“It was. However, it left its mark on the kids. My daughter is taking it the hardest.”

“She’ll come around I’m sure.”

“I hope.” Ian responded in a solemn tone.

Nivea perked up, grabbed her glass of wine, and raised it.

“Let’s toast to new beginnings.”

Ian lifted his glass high and both of them clinked them. Ian watched Nivea down her wine in one sip. He chuckled into his glass.

“More?”

“Hell yeahhh! Whoops—”

Embarrassed by her outburst, Nivea giggled into her hands. Ian simply laughed.

“Sorry, I’m a bit of a wine–o.”

“No worries. I love when you let that side of you show.”

Nivea’s tawny–brown skin tinted beneath his gaze as she fought the urge to smile.

________

A Week Later:

Sitting in anticipation of seeing her again left him feeling anxious. It’s been too long since she’d entered his life without any real connection. He’d heard her voice through a window and as she was leaving work, but he hadn’t smelled her. Touched her. All of which he longed for. He occupied his usual parked spot hidden from view, dressed in a black T-shirt and Wrangler Jeans. One elbow propped up against the open window of his truck while his other hand gripped the steering wheel.

Checking the time, he should have expected to see her pass beyond the trees. However, an uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach. She’d never missed a trail run. It was a part of her meticulous routine. Had she overslept? Did she decide to skip a run? Why would she alter her routine? Frustration and worry coursed through his body as he contemplated leaving his truck behind to search for her.

He kept a distance because he knew what it looked like stalking her. She’d be afraid, call the police, and he couldn’t have that. Not when he needed her so badly. Stroking his bottom lip with his thumb, his ever–changing eyes moved about, hoping to spot her. Minutes stretched on and so did his patience. His mind drifted to the worst possible scenario. One he was all too familiar with. Begrudgingly, he opened the door to his truck and climbed out. His heart hammered away behind his mended ribs as he walked along the gravel leading into the trees.

He made his way onto a trail, pausing his steps. Eyes searching from one end of the forest trail to the other, he allowed his sensitive sense of smell to pick up her scent. His keen eyes paid close attention to any disturbance in the forest before him. Trampled vegetation. Disturbed soil. As these can leave behind unique scent profiles.

He was far away from his truck now, the smell of lemon peel, oak moss, and mint burned his nose. A metallic smell made his muscles tighten and his tongue tingle. He picked up into a run, trailing off the beaten path, away from what her usual route would be. As he ventured into the wilderness, the metallic–like scent grew stronger, enough to make him lose sight of his destination. His footsteps paused a few feet away from a man-made ditch, and as his eyes peered into it, there, he’d found his latest obsession.

She was unconscious, filthy, and bleeding from a laceration on her head. He frantically jumped down into the ditch and scooped her into his arms. His nose crinkled as the smell of blood seeped in. He pressed two fingers against her neck, faintly making out a pulse. She’s alive. Relief washed over him. Standing, he cradled her limp body in his arms. He hoisted her up and onto the ground carefully before hopping out of the deep darkness of the ditch.

He couldn’t leave her there, she needed to go to the hospital immediately. As he made his way over to her, he caught a whiff of something unfamiliar. Something unwelcome. His eyes searched around him, fists tightly clenched. The trees lashed and crashed against each other like drumsticks in the hands of a giant. It was eerily quiet. He could sense something watching. A painful groan from her captured his ears and he immediately focused all of his attention on her.

She stirred on the ground, face frowned and her eyes moving beneath her closed lids. Terry held his breath as he crouched down to look at her. He placed one hand beneath her head for protection, his eyes staring down into her beautiful face. When she opened them slightly, his lips parted to speak.

Her soft locs in his calloused hands he adored. Her tawny skin was a work of art with her arms covered in tattoos. Lips plump and soft. She’s a goddess. Pools of brown peered up at his face with difficulty. She furrowed her brows, trying to make out who this stranger was as the sun above made him less distinguishable. She parted her lips to utter a few words, but it required energy she didn’t currently possess.

“It’s okay…you’re safe now. I’m gonna take you to the ER.” He spoke softly as her consciousness began to fade again, “Just hang in there…I got you.”

Her head lulled as he picked her up. Quickly and carefully, he made his way back to his truck. Once there, he flung his back door open and placed her on her side with her head reclined on a wrinkled flannel shirt of his. He slammed the door shut and rushed to the driver’s seat. Truck rolled to life and he took off with a quick burst of speed so fast he almost collided with a tree.

The nearest emergency room wasn’t too far of a drive. What would have been twenty minutes on back roads took him ten minutes or less on the I–10. As he drove, weaving his way through traffic, he would look back to check on her, making sure she was okay and not bleeding out. As his truck screeched to a stop in the visitor parking lot of the emergency room at Ochsner Lafayette General Medical Center, He quickly left his car to grab her.

Bystanders watched as he carried her through the automatic doors. Medical staff rushed over, surprising him with how diligent they were with getting her to a room. His heart thumped as he watched them place her on a gurney and secure the safety rails. Sweat doused his body from head to toe. The adrenaline was running through his body. He could make out someone trying to speak to him, but his eyes were glued to her distant figure as she traveled down the EMS corridor and towards the resuscitation area.

“Excuse me, Sir?!”

A woman in teal green scrubs shouted for his attention from the reception area. He allowed his eyes to sweep over her and then the reality of where he was and what he needed to do hit him. He took long strides towards the desk, bracing himself there as he tried to calm his nerves.

“Can you tell us what happened? Who it is you brought in and what’s your name and relationship to the patient?”

Another woman with ceil–blue scrubs and a scrub jacket with little faces of children printed on it sat typing away at a registration computer.

“Uh, yes…I’m not sure what her name is. I…I found her…”

His eyes glanced around him warily.

“Found her where, sir?”

“Unconscious. In a ditch. She’d fallen in.”

The two women shared a glance with each other, one that told him they weren’t very trusting of him.

“Where was this?—”

“Moon Seed Loop.” He replied abruptly with a deep voice.

“The trail?”

“Yes,” he stroked a large hand down the front of his hair, “I don’t know her. I just saw her laying there and rushed to bring her in.”

The woman asking questions seemed to relax after those words but still kept an eye on him.

“Did you try performing CPR?”

“No. She’d woken up at some point before going back out.”

“Okay, and what’s your name to put on file?”

“Terry Richmond.”

“Contact? Unless you wish to stick around.”

“I’ll stick around.”

Terry peered into the waiting area, not too thrilled with sitting amongst a bunch of people. But he refused to leave without making sure she was okay.

“Alright. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you.”

Hands in his pockets, he made his way towards the waiting area filled with sick patients.

__________

Plain walls.

The beeping of a monitor.

Fluorescent lighting.

A whiteboard listing her information.

The name of the nurse taking care of her and the physician.

Metal side rails caging her in.

Stark white linens and pillows beneath her head while she lay in Fowler's position.

A hep–lock was placed in her arm and connected to an IV secured with tegaderm. She’s still wearing the GymShark pale blue set but it was covered in dirt stains. Her head pounded from an intense migraine as she tried turning her head.

The pulse–ox on her finger beeped as she moved. Suddenly her curtain had been pulled back and an older white woman with ginger hair and a freckled face appeared. She wore navy blue scrubs with a name badge that read Leslie.

“Hello, Miss. Douglas. I’m nurse Leslie. Glad to see you awake.”

Nurse Leslie sauntered over to check her vitals. Nivea touched the back of her head over a tender spot and felt staples.

“A pretty gnarly lac ya’ had there. Thank goodness the young man that brought ya’ in found ya’.”

Slightly disoriented, Nivea sat up completely in her hospital bed, “Young man?”

“Yes ma’am. Now, can you confirm some things with me, Miss Douglas? Dr. Laphaun would like for me to give you some Tylenol. Just tell me your name and date of birth please.”

She groaned In discomfort, “Nivea Douglas. March twenty first. Nineteen eighty two.”

“Thank you. Here’s your Tylenol and some water…”

Nivea accepted the medicine and washed it down with the water. Her mouth was so dry from dehydration.

“Fluids are nearly done.”

“Leslie,” Nivea placed her cup down and reclined back, “is the young man a detective?”

“I don’t think so. Doesn’t look it. Looks more like a handy man. Tall, muscles, pretty eyes…ring a bell?”

“No—where did he find me? I was out for my morning run and—”

It was cold. She felt her pulse accelerate as her sneaker–clad feet imprinted the dry grounds of Mount Seed Loop. The air thickened around her as she ran faster. Paramore kept her going as she mouthed the words Hayley Williams sang. As she crossed a bridge, an intense wind picked up, causing her to sway slightly. Nivea slowed to a stop, bracing herself along the bridge. Her dark brown eyes focused ahead, and there, staring her in the eyes, was a wolf. Its piercing amber eyes didn’t waver. Nivea took two steps back, and the wolf took two steps forward. A low growl sounded from its muzzle and all sense of animal awareness left her body and was replaced with a fight or flight response.

Nivea ran, leaving the trail and entering beyond the trees. It was behind her, darting between the trees after her to attack. She didn’t know where she was going or why she thought running into the forest was a good idea, but soon, the wolf stopped chasing her, possibly finding something else more interesting. Nivea tried to stop running, but she tripped over an uproot and fell into what appeared to be a perfectly concealed ditch. Nivea gasped, too startled to comprehend what was happening. Her head collided with a sharp stone and her world went black…

“Almost ready for discharge, Miss Douglas. Dr. Laphaun will be in again to check on you before we release you. I’m assuming the young man waiting is your ride home? If not, we can call you an Uber.”

Bemused, Nivea tried to recall if she could remember the man that saved her from an almost fatal accident. Visions of a figure looking down at her flashed across her eyes, and words she couldn’t discern before.

“It’s okay…you’re safe now…”

A man’s voice. A voice of resonant quality. Gruff and husky.

“Can I see this man?”

“Sure! I’ll go grab him for you…”

Nurse Leslie exited the room and Nivea watched her turn down a hall. The distant sound of voices and a ringing phone could be heard. Nivea didn’t know what to expect when that curtain opened. But whoever this man is, she’s forever grateful for his kindness.

A knock to the frame separating her room from the outside startled her.

“Miss. Douglas. It’s Dr. Laphaun. May I come in?”

“Yes,” Nivea sat up, “You can come in.”

The curtain opened to reveal a white male with a bald head and tired eyes. He approached her left side.

“Just doing one final check. Your vitals are stable. Let’s take a look at your head again…excellent. So, I see you’re a veterinarian! How exciting.”

“Yeah,” Nivea gave him a small smile, “Neurological exam good? MRI results?”

“All good. You’re a lucky woman. As I’m sure you know, rest is a crucial part of concussion recovery. Once your symptoms improve, a gradual return to normal activities is recommended. I suggest taking at least a week off from exercise. Maybe your practice as well to be sure.”

“I have a lot of appointments this week, Dr. Laphaun—”

“All that I’m sure can be postponed, Dr. Douglas. The dogs and cats would be grateful to have a competent provider taking care of them.”

“Okay,” Nivea replied with a sigh, “Tylenol, elevate the head, cold compresses if swelling occurs…anything worsens I’ll be back.”

“All the above.” Dr. Laphaun said.

Another knock brought Nivea’s attention to the curtain. A nervous tickle in her stomach.

“Looks like your knight in faded jeans arrived!” Dr. Laphaun jokes.

The curtain opened to reveal a man standing at 6’3 with a body mass index that took up most of the entryway. His eyes are indeed pretty. Hypnotizing. An array of colors that seemed to change whenever the light hit. Sculpted jawline, generous lips, tattoo–covered arms, skin a toasted brown from the intense sun of Louisiana. His black T-shirt stretched over what had to be a well–sculpted torso and the faded jeans Dr. Laphaun was referring to fitting his lower half snug in all the right places. He had a rugged look to him with dark, almost black hair that stood out boldly. Thick, dark lashes and brows with hair that Nivea could tell grew out of control if he didn’t keep it cut low.

Nurse Leslie worked to remove Nivea’s hep–lock. Dr. Laphaun made his exit after shaking the Adonis’s hand. Nurse Leslie informed Nivea where her things were and asked if she needed help out of bed and into a wheelchair.

“I’ll be back with a chair.”

Nurse Leslie left the two of them alone. Nivea locked eyes with the man who was staring back at her unblinking. She broke her eyes away as she tried to swing her legs over the edge. Immediately, the man was by her side, one hand on her back and the other reaching out for her hand.

“Woah, woah. Careful…”

Nivea cast him a wary glance.

“I’m Terry.” He finally introduced himself.

“Nivea.”

Silence stretched on as they locked eyes. Nivea didn’t know what came over her, but she leaped into his arms, circling his neck with her arms in a choking embrace. Terry quickly secured her waist with his hands so she wouldn’t fall. Nivea cried against his neck, the smell of his scent crowding her nose. It was earthy and warm.

“Thank you, Terry! You saved my life!”

Terry was rigid against her.

“Okay, oh!–I’m so sorry—”

Leslie turned beet red. Nivea moved away from Terry with a sheepish smile while rubbing tears from her eyes and snot from her nose.

“Giving Terry here a proper thank you for saving me.” Nivea giggled softly.

“What a lovely young man,” Leslie patted him on the back, “Think you’ll be okay to wheel her out to ya’ truck? If you want ya can pull up and I’ll take her out.”

“Good idea,” Terry patted his back pocket, retrieving his keys, “I’ll be out front.”

Leaping into action, he hurried out of the room. Nivea’s eyes never left his brawny back until he was out of sight. Leslie helped Nivea into the wheelchair and with all her things, they left the room and towards the emergency room exit. Terry’s pitch black dually truck sat high off of the ground. Leslie stuck around to make sure Nivea could be safely transferred.

Terry lifted her up into his arms and placed her on the seat. Leslie smiled before waving goodbye to Terry and Nivea, turning to enter the emergency room. Nivea kept an eye on Terry as he fastened her in. He shut her door and made his way around. Nivea did a quick sweep of his truck, finding it pristine and cozy. It smelled of Royal Pine. He entered the truck and started the ignition. Terry placed his cell phone on a magnetic phone mount, keying in his passcode and pulling up the GPS. Suddenly, he picked up his phone.

“Sorry,” he gave her an apologetic nod before placing his phone back on the mount, “Where to?”

Nivea elevated a brow at him in wonder.

“536 Sterling Grove, 70503.”

“Got it. Let’s get you home.” Terry said.

@theereinawrites @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @blackerthings @deja-r @kanafunee @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @dremmmm @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @kokokonako @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @playgurlxoxo @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter

#terry richmond #rebel ridge #nahimjustfeelingit-writes #aaron pierre x black!oc

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dollfacefantasy · 2 years ago

Text

Hold My Calls

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation

word count: 2.9k

a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3 also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)

When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.

He had a fucking flip phone.

Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.

It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.

“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.

You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”

And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”

The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.

He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.

“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.

“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”

Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”

“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.

You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.

“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.

He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.

He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”

You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.

“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.

“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”

“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.

“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.

You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.

He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.

He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.

Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.

His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.

He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.

“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.

You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.

You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.

“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”

“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”

You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.

“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.

He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.

“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.

Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.

“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.

“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.

“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”

That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.

“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”

Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.

You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.

“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.

You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.

He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.

His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.

He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.

He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.

Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”

It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.

He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.

His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.

“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”

You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.

“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation.

Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.

You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.

“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.

“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.

You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”

As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.

He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.

“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.

“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #smut #ch: leon kennedy 💌

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norrisainz33 · 3 days ago

Text

photograph || op81

summary: after receiving an old photo album from your mom you take a bittersweet journey through memories of your childhood best friend, oscar piastri.

pairing: op81 x childhood bestfriend!reader

warnings: heavy on the angst. unresolved feelings

word count: 2,155

a/n: first ever fully written fic 🥹 this is also definitely inspired by the song photograph by nickelback what can i say

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

with a big sigh you pulled the old photo album from the envelope your mom had mailed. she’d been tidying up the house back in melbourne and insisted you take it claiming that it belonged with you. and so there it was resting on your coffee table. the cover was still plastered with stickers and the words y/n's favorite book scrawled across it in glitter glue, a relic of your younger self. you ran your fingers over the worn surface, took a deep breath and opened it. the first page hit you like a truck bringing back an overwhelming amount of emotions. it was a full-page photo of you and oscar on your very first joint podium at 10 years old with the biggest smiles you could have mustered.

✿

you remembered the first time you saw him on track. he was barely tall enough to see over the steering wheel but the way he drove it, like the world around him didn’t exist, made you certain that something special was happening. you two were of similar ages but even then you knew that kid with the messy brown hair and the most determined look in his eyes was destined for something bigger than the little karting track in melbourne and the classrooms you two found yourselves in.

your weekends were spent racing, laughing, and sharing the kind of friendship that only childhood can provide. oscar was your closest friend but there was always something else, something unspoken, that lingered between you. it wasn’t obvious at first, not in the way he smiled at you after winning a race or how you’d both hang out afterward joking about everything and nothing.

but there was something about the way he looked at you in those quiet moments when your gazes met, that made your heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the thrill of racing. you would never admit it to him though because he was your best friend and someone you couldn't bear the thought of ever losing no matter how much it hurt to see him with other girls at school.

✿

shaking your head with a small smile, you turned to the next page of the photo album. this one was filled with pictures of you and oscar at your very first f1 grand prix together. tucked neatly beside the photos was the physical ticket from that day and a small picture you had painted that you had signed by your favorite driver at the time. it was a weekend you'd never forget.

✿

“you’re going to make it to f1 and race here one day,” you had told oscar as you two sat side by side watching the cars zip around albert park.

he smile that crooked smile of his and said something like "nah, I'm just racing to beat you silly girl!"

✿

the next page in the photo album brought a wave of nostalgia. it was a collage of moments captured with your beloved little digital camera, the hot pink one you carried with you everywhere back then like a secret sidekick. the photos were a mix of everything that had made that you happy at the time: snapshots of you and oscar grinning wide outside the track, arms slung around each other, sunburnt and buzzing with excitement; blurry, magical pictures of the night sky, stars peeking through the soft glow of city lights; and tucked between them, tiny doodles you’d sketched later of race cars, your helmet design ideas, and little icons of everything that had made you fall in love with racing in the first place.

✿

sometimes, late at night after a race, you and oscar would sit side by side in the grass behind the track. the night air would be cool, the stars barely visible through the lights and he’d talk about his dreams, about f1 and you’d listen, trying not to think about what it would all mean for your friendship.

you were only just kids and you had more time ahead of you or so you thought because the day he hold you he was leaving came sooner than you would've hoped.

✿

you flipped to the next page in the album which held your and oscar’s final last day of school photos that were taken just a few short weeks before he had left. you were on the front porch of the piastri family house in your favorite dress with your hair braided neatly back and oscar stood beside you in his usual school polo, his hair slightly messy, and wearing that same goofy grin he still hasn’t grown out of. you couldn't help but envy the way your eyes sparkled in the photo.

✿

you were sitting in your final class of the day before break - only half listening as the teacher rambled on about everything you'd have to complete while on holiday. you willed the time to go by and snuck glances at oscar who was sitting next to you. when the bell finally rang and you skipped out of the classroom excited for break, you noticed that oscar hung behind. you turned to face him and were met with a rather sad looking oscar, something you hadn't really seen before much less on the last day of classes.

“i have to leave,” he said, the words so simple yet terrifying. he was fumbling with the zipper on his backpack as he refused to make eye contact with you.

your heart dropped into your stomach. "wait.. oscar what in the world are you talking about? you mean leave class?" you asked quickly.

oscar finally looked at you now, his expression a little too serious for comfort. “i’m going to boarding school..... in england so that i can focus on my racing.” his voice was barely a whisper.

it took you a moment to process what he was saying. this wasn’t just about leaving class or even leaving your karting team behind.... this was him leaving everything including you.

“you..... you cant be leaving already? but… what about karting? what about your family? what about me?” you squeaked out as tears began falling down your cheeks.

“i have to do this, y/n/n,” he explained. “you know I have to. this is the next step for me y/n/n just like we've always talked about!! i want to make it to f1 and this.... and this is the way i do that.”

your chest tightened. you wanted to tell him to stay. in fact, you wanted to beg him to stay on your hands and knees but you couldn’t. he was chasing his dream and you knew that but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

✿

you wiped away a tear as the memory of that day replayed in your head. it felt like a piece of you had climbed onto that plane to england with him and no matter how hard you tried you were never quite able to find that piece again.

✿

when you said goodbye at the airport it was even harder than you expected. he stood there with his backpack, his eyes damp and his hair dishevelled. he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye either.

“i’ll be back,” he promised. “i’ll visit, and we can race again together, yeah?”

you nodded, though you didn’t know if you ever would because you were staying here and he was moving on without you.

the months that followed felt like years until they began to actually turn into them. he was gone and living a life you couldn't even begin to imagine. you’d send occasional messages, have brief update sessions but it was never the same. you wanted to be happy for him and part of you was but you missed him terribly. and it wasn’t just the friendship that you missed. it was the little moments like the endless laughter, the late night ice cream runs, and the way he made everything feel right even when a race or a maths test hadn't gone your way.

✿

the last page in your album held a photo of you and oscar at the final race of his you’d ever attended. it was not long after your birthday when nicole had insisted you come with her and hattie to watch one of his formula 3 races. you hadn’t seen him race in person since the karting days and truthfully you hadn’t really seen him much at all since then either.

after a lot of convincing you finally agreed to tag along. and it was there, standing at the edge of the track, that it hit you.. the boy you had grown up with wasn’t the same person anymore and you hardly even knew who that person was.

that day was the last time you'd had seen oscar.

wiping away more tears, you flipped back through the album looking through all the doodles, race tickets, school photos, and everything else in between. so many tiny pieces of your childhood was captured within these pages and so much of it included oscar.

you'd spent all these years thinking you were just missing your best friend. but now, looking back on it all, you knew the truth. you loved him and maybe you always had.

but he was gone now. not in a tragic way, just... in that way life sometimes pulls people apart. years had passed and the distance between who you were then and who you were now felt impossibly wide. you couldn’t call him up and tell him not after all this time. what would you even say?

so instead, you closed the album slowly, pressing your hand to the cover like it could hold everything in place.

you missed him and maybe you always would but that’s just how it had to be.

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

a/n: ahhhh if you made it this far tysm for reading!!!! let me know if you would like a part 2... maybe of y/n getting an invite to australia 2025??

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ⠀

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

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phamapple · 3 months ago

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THEY WERE ROOMMATES

When opposites attract, sparks fly. Follow the adorable misadventures of two college students as they go from sworn enemies to head-over-heels in love

Warnings; fluff, fem!reader, kissing, enemies-friends-lovers, mini jealousy moments, Daniela is mentioned like twice, not so slow burn, med student reader, art student manon, uni au, roommates au, reader is a neat freak lmk if I missed anything cuz I think there’s a lot that I missed :P 7.5k WC

You trudged into your dorm room, lugging a heavy suitcase behind you. You were not thrilled about sharing a room with a stranger, but it was a necessary evil. You'd heard horror stories about dorm roommates, but you were determined to make the best of it.

As you entered the room, you were greeted by a messy-haired girl sprawled across the bed, surrounded by art supplies. She looked up at you with a scowl, her eyes narrowing.

"Great, you must be my roommate," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm Manon."

You raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her attitude. "Nice to meet you, Manon," you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. "I'm Y/n."

Manon snorted, rolling her eyes. "Let me guess. A med major, huh? How original."

You felt a spark of irritation, but you bit back a retort. You didn't want to start off on the wrong foot.

As you began to unpack, Manon barely acknowledged your presence, too busy sketching in her notebook. You tried to make small talk, but she responded with monosyllabic grunts.

It was clear that Manon was not thrilled about sharing a room with you. But you were determined to make the best of it, even if it killed you.

As the days went by, you settled into a routine. Manon would spend most of her time drawing or painting, while you'd study for your med school classes. The tension between you was palpable, but you tried to ignore it.

But despite the rocky start, you began to notice little things about Manon. The way she smiled to herself when she was drawing, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about art.

And Manon, despite her tough exterior, seemed to be warming up to you. She'd occasionally ask you for advice on her art projects or share her favorite snacks with you.

It was a small start, but you sensed that there might be more to Manon than met the eye.

—

You'd always been a tidy person, and you took pride in keeping your space organized. So, when Manon started to spread her art supplies all over the room, you felt a growing sense of frustration.

At first, it was just a few sketchbooks and pencils scattered across the desk. But as the days went by, the clutter grew. Paints, canvases, and half-finished projects took over the floor, the bed, and even the windowsill.

You tried to be patient, reminding yourself that Manon was an art major and needed space to create. But as the mess grew, so did your annoyance.

One day, as you were trying to study for an exam, you realized that you couldn't even see the surface of your desk anymore. Manon's art supplies had taken over, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of paper, paint, and glitter.

"Manon, can we talk?" you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Manon looked up from her latest project, a half-finished painting that was taking up most of the floor. "What's up?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"It's just...the room is getting really cluttered," you said, trying to choose your words carefully. "I know you need space to create, but I need some space to study."

Manon raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly the most exciting person to live with," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm just trying to add some personality to this drab room."

You felt a surge of irritation, but you tried to keep your cool. "I understand that, but can we find a compromise? Maybe we can set up a designated art space for you, and I can have some space to study?"

Manon snorted. "You want to restrict my creativity? No way."

The conversation quickly escalated into a full-blown argument, with both of you shouting over each other. The tension between you was palpable, and it seemed like the room was shrinking by the minute.

As the argument reached its peak, the RA knocked on the door, asking you to keep the noise down. You both glared at each other, still fuming, before Manon stormed out of the room, leaving you to seethe in silence.

The room was still cluttered, and the tension between you and Manon was thicker than ever. You wondered how you were going to survive the rest of the semester with this much animosity between you.

You gazed around the cluttered room, feeling a sense of irritation wash over you. Manon's art supplies were scattered everywhere, making it impossible for you to focus on your studies. You let out a deep sigh and decided to take matters into your own hands.

You started to pick up the scattered art supplies, carefully organizing them into neat piles. As you worked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The room was starting to look more like a peaceful sanctuary, and less like a chaotic art studio.

As you finished up, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. The room was transformed, with Manon's art supplies neatly organized and out of the way. You let out a sigh of relief and settled back into your chair, ready to focus on your studies.

Just as you were getting into the zone, you heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by the creak of the door to your room. You looked up to see Manon standing in the doorway, a scowl on her face and a bag of groceries in her hand.

For a moment, you just looked at her, taking in the sight of her rumpled clothes and messy hair. She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, and you couldn't help but wonder what she'd been up to.

Manon's scowl deepened as she caught your eye, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with a soft pink hue. You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden shyness.

Without a word, Manon walked over to your desk and dumped the bag of groceries onto the surface. You looked at the pile of snacks in surprise, wondering what she was doing.

As you gazed up at Manon, you saw a flicker of apology in her eyes, but her expression remained stubbornly scowled. "I brought snacks, as an apology for my attitude earlier" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a surge of surprise at her words, but you quickly pushed it aside. Instead, you smiled at her, a warm, soft smile that you hoped would put her at ease.

"Thanks, Manon," you said, your voice gentle. "That's really sweet of you."

Manon's scowl faltered for a moment, and you saw a glimmer of surprise in her eyes. She seemed taken aback by your warm response, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd misread the situation entirely.

But then Manon's expression hardened again, and she turned away, muttering something under her breath. You watched her go, feeling a sense of confusion wash over you.

What was going on with Manon? You wondered. One minute she was scowling at you, and the next she was bringing you snacks and apologizing. You shook your head, feeling a sense of bewilderment.

As you turned back to your studies, you couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about Manon's sudden change of heart. What had brought it on? And what did it mean for your tumultuous relationship?

The questions swirled in your mind as you delved back into your studies, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon's apology had been unexpected, to say the least, and you wondered what other surprises she had in store for you.

—

Manon burst into the room, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Tonight's the night!" she exclaimed, tossing her bag onto the bed.

You looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow. "What's tonight?" you asked, a hint of wariness creeping into your voice.

Manon grinned. "Tonight, we're going out!" she said, her voice dripping with excitement. "We're going to paint the town red, or at least, we're going to try."

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready for a night out with Manon. She had a reputation for being unpredictable, and you weren't sure if you were ready for whatever adventure she had planned.

But Manon's enthusiasm was infectious, and before you knew it, you were swept up in her excitement. "Okay, fine," you said, tossing your book aside. "But if we get into trouble, I'm blaming you."

Manon whooped, pumping her fist in the air. "That's the spirit!" she exclaimed, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room.

As you hit the streets, you realized that Manon had no clear plan in mind. She seemed to be making it up as she went along, dragging you from one random location to the next.

You found yourself laughing and joking with Manon, feeling a sense of freedom and release that you hadn't experienced in weeks. It was like you'd left your worries and cares behind, and were just living in the moment.

But as the night wore on, things started to get a little out of hand. Manon convinced you to join her in a karaoke bar, where you proceeded to butcher a rendition of your favorite song. The crowd was merciless, and you found yourself laughing and cringing at the same time.

Next, Manon dragged you to a street food stall, where you sampled some of the most exotic and bizarre foods you'd ever encountered. Some of it was delicious, while other dishes were downright terrifying.

As the night drew to a close, Manon convinced you to join her in a crazy dance party, where you found yourself surrounded by pulsating lights and thumping music. You lost yourself in the beat, feeling a sense of abandon and freedom that you hadn't experienced in years.

It wasn't until the sun started to rise that you realized just how late it was. Manon grinned at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Best night ever, right?" she exclaimed, linking her arm through yours.

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of exhilaration and exhaustion. "Definitely one for the books," you agreed, shaking your head in wonder.

As you stumbled back to the dorm, the sun rising over the horizon, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Manon. She'd pushed you out of your comfort zone, and shown you a side of yourself that you never knew existed.

And as you drifted off to sleep, your head spinning with memories of the night's adventures, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises Manon had in store for you.

You woke up to the sound of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, wondering who could be visiting at such an early hour. You tossed off the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, deciding that the best time to investigate was when you went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

As you made your way downstairs, the noise grew louder, and you could tell that Manon was entertaining a guest. You stepped into the living room, and your eyes landed on Manon, who was lounging on the couch with a blonde, curly-haired girl. They both turned to look at you, and you offered a simple "morning" before heading to the kitchen.

As you poured yourself a glass of water, you couldn't help but overhear the conversation between Manon and her friend. The blonde girl was chatting away, asking Manon about her summer plans, and Manon was responding with her usual sarcastic humor. But then, the girl's attention turned to you, and you heard her say, "Who's that cutie? I hope she's up for grabs."

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you listened to Manon's response. "She's my roommate," Manon said, her voice firm, "and I'm 90% sure she isn't single." Manon's expression narrowed, and you could sense a hint of protectiveness in her tone.

You stood in the kitchen, frozen, wondering what Manon meant by that statement. Why was she so sure you weren't single? And why did she seem so invested in keeping her friend away from you? You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized that Manon might be more perceptive than you gave her credit for.

As you stood there, lost in thought, the conversation between Manon and her friend continued. The blonde girl was teasing Manon about being possessive, and Manon was laughing it off, but you could sense an undercurrent of tension. It was clear that Manon was not interested in sharing you with her friend, but you weren't sure why.

You took a deep breath and tried to shake off the feeling of unease. You told yourself that Manon was just being protective, that she didn't want her friend to get hurt. But as you stood there, listening to the conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

After a few minutes, you composed yourself and headed back upstairs, trying to act nonchalant. But as you lay in bed, you couldn't help but wonder what Manon's intentions were. Was she really just being protective, or was there something more to it?

You decided to brush it off and pretend you didn't hear the conversation. You told yourself that it was none of your business, and that Manon was probably just joking around with her friend.

As you went about your day, you tried to avoid thinking about the conversation. You focused on your studies, worked on a project, and even managed to squeeze in a quick workout. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between you and Manon.

When Manon's friend left later that day, Manon came upstairs to grab a book from her shelf. She caught your eye and smiled, but you just nodded and looked away, trying to play it cool.

Manon seemed to sense that something was off, because she lingered in the doorway, watching you with a curious expression. "Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, everything's fine," you said, trying to sound casual. "Just studying for an exam."

Manon raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. But she didn't push the issue, just nodded and headed back downstairs.

As the day drew to a close, you couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if you'd confronted Manon about the conversation. Would she have confessed her feelings, or would she have brushed it off as a joke?

You shook your head, telling yourself that it was better to just let it go. But as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd missed an opportunity to explore something deeper with Manon.

The next morning, you woke up to find Manon already up and about, making breakfast in the kitchen. She smiled at you as you entered the kitchen, and you felt a flutter in your chest.

"Morning," she said, her voice bright. "I made pancakes."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over you. Maybe, just maybe, you'd imagined the whole thing.

But as you sat down to eat, you caught Manon watching you, a curious expression on her face. And you wondered, once again, what she was really thinking.

You decided to try to make small talk and see if you could get a read on Manon's feelings. As you sat down to eat, you asked her about her plans for the day.

Manon launched into a detailed explanation of her art project, telling you about the inspiration behind it and the techniques she was using. You listened intently, asking questions and making supportive noises.

As you chatted, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she talked about her art. She was so passionate about it, and it was infectious. You found yourself getting caught up in her enthusiasm, feeling a sense of excitement and creativity.

But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something underlying between you. You kept catching Manon looking at you, her expression soft and curious. And when you met her eye, she would quickly look away, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

You wondered if you were imagining things, if you were just reading too much into the situation. But as you continued to chat, you started to feel a sense of tension building between you. It was like there was a question hanging in the air, a question that neither of you was willing to ask.

As you finished up your breakfast, Manon suggested that you work on your respective projects together. She set up her easel in the living room, and you settled in at the kitchen table with your books and notes.

As you worked, the silence between you was comfortable, but you could sense the undercurrent of tension. You kept looking up to find Manon watching you, her eyes narrowed in concentration. And when you caught her eye, she would smile and look away, leaving you feeling frustrated and curious.

As the morning wore on, the tension between you started to feel almost palpable. You could sense that Manon was waiting for something, but you had no idea what. And as you worked, you found yourself wondering if you were brave enough to take the leap and find out.

Just as you were starting to feel like you couldn't take the tension anymore, Manon suddenly spoke up. "Hey, can I ask you something?" she said, her voice soft and tentative.

You looked up, your heart skipping a beat. "Of course," you said, trying to sound casual. "What's up?"

Manon hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth. And then, in a rush, she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't expected the question, and you didn't know how to respond. Part of you wanted to tell Manon the truth, to confess that you were single and interested. But another part of you was scared, scared of getting hurt and scared of ruining your friendship with Manon.

As you hesitated, Manon's face fell, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Never mind," she muttered. "It's none of my business."

You felt a pang of regret, knowing that you'd missed an opportunity to be honest with Manon. But as you looked at her, you saw the tension in her shoulders, the vulnerability in her eyes. And you knew that you had to find a way to respond, to let her know that you valued her and your friendship.

You smiled softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Manon's arm. "Hey, don't worry about it," you said, trying to put her at ease. "I'm single, so you don't have to worry about stepping on anyone's toes."

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile as she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her eyes sparkled with relief, and she looked at you with a newfound sense of connection.

"Thanks for telling me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I can breathe again."

You chuckled and squeezed her arm gently. "Anytime," you said, smiling back at her. "I'm glad I could put your mind at ease."

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of tension dissipate. It was as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you could finally relax around each other.

Manon's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked at you with a curious expression. "Can I ask you something else?" she said, her voice hesitant.

You nodded, intrigued. "Of course," you said, leaning in slightly. "What's up?"

Manon took a deep breath before asking, "Would you like to grab coffee with me sometime? Just the two of us?"

You felt a flutter in your chest as you considered her question. It was clear that Manon was interested in spending more time with you, and you had to admit that you felt the same way.

You smiled, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility. "I'd love to grab coffee with you," you said, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she let out a little squeal of excitement. "Really?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with delight.

You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and connection. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.

Manon bounced up from the couch, her energy infectious. "I'll go get my phone and we can make plans," she said, already heading for the stairs.

As you watched her go, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. You had no idea what the future held, but you knew that you were looking forward to spending more time with Manon.

Manon returned with her phone and started scrolling through her calendar. "How about tomorrow afternoon?" she asked, looking up at you with a hopeful expression.

You nodded, feeling a sense of agreement. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect," you said, smiling back at her.

As you made plans, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she smiled, or the way her hair curled slightly at the edges. You felt a sense of attraction that you couldn't ignore, and you wondered if maybe, just maybe, this coffee date could be the start of something special.

As you finalized the plans, Manon looked up at you with a mischievous grin. "I'm really looking forward to tomorrow," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you met her gaze. "Me too," you said, smiling back at her.

As the day went on, you tried to play it cool and pretend like the coffee date was no big deal. You went about your routine, doing chores and studying, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Every so often, you'd catch yourself thinking about Manon and the way she smiled when she asked you out. You'd feel a flutter in your chest, and you'd quickly push the feeling aside, telling yourself that you were just being silly.

But as the hours ticked by, you started to wonder if you were reading too much into the situation. Maybe Manon just wanted to be friends, and you were overanalyzing everything. Maybe you were just caught up in the excitement of having someone to hang out with.

You tried to rationalize your feelings, telling yourself that it was okay to just enjoy the moment and not overthink things. But as you lay in bed that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Manon's invitation.

As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself wondering what the next day would bring. Would Manon be nervous and awkward, or would she be her usual confident self? And what would you do if she was just being friendly, and didn't actually have romantic feelings for you?

The questions swirled in your mind, keeping you awake for what felt like hours. Finally, you drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster you'd been on.

The next morning, you woke up feeling nervous and anxious. You got dressed and ready, trying to calm your nerves as you waited for Manon to come downstairs.

When she finally emerged, looking bright and cheerful in a yellow sundress, you felt your heart skip a beat. She smiled at you, and you smiled back, trying to play it cool.

"Hey," she said, breezing into the kitchen. "Ready for coffee?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

As you walked to the coffee shop, Manon chatted easily about everything from art to music to her favorite books. You listened, entranced, feeling like you were getting to know her on a deeper level.

But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this coffee date. Something that Manon wasn't telling you.

As you sat down at a small table outside, Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm really glad you could make it today," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a flutter in your chest, and you leaned in, your heart pounding in your ears. "I'm glad I could make it too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection that you couldn't ignore. It was like the whole world had melted away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in a moment of pure possibility.

Just as it seemed like the moment was going to escalate into something more, Manon's phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming text. She groaned in frustration and pulled back, apologizing as she reached for her phone.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you tried to play it cool, smiling and telling Manon to go ahead and answer the text. As she scrolled through her phone, her expression changed from relaxed to concerned.

"What's wrong?" you asked, feeling a sense of curiosity.

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to respond. "It's my friend Daniela," she said finally. "She's in town unexpectedly and wants to meet up."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of surprise. "Daniela? Isn't that the friend who was visiting the other day?" you asked.

Manon nodded, looking guilty. "Yeah, that's the one. I didn't expect her to come back to town so soon, but I guess she had a change of plans."

You felt a pang of disappointment, realizing that the coffee date was going to be cut short. But you tried to be understanding, smiling and telling Manon that it was okay.

As Manon texted Daniela back, you couldn't help but wonder what this unexpected visit meant. Was Daniela just passing through, or was there something more going on?

As you finished up your coffee, Manon looked up at you with a sheepish expression. "I'm so sorry about this," she said. "I feel like I'm abandoning you."

You smiled and reassured Manon that it was okay, that you understood. But as you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. What did Daniela's visit mean for you and Manon? And would you ever get to finish what you started?

You smiled and told Manon that you understood, but you weren't interested in meeting up with Daniela. "It's okay, really," you said. "I've got some stuff I need to work on anyway."

Manon looked relieved, but also a little disappointed. "Okay, no worries," she said. "I'll catch up with you later, then."

You nodded and watched as Manon hurried off to meet up with Daniela. As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but feel a little left out. You had been looking forward to spending more time with Manon, and now it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.

When you got back to your dorm, you decided to focus on your work and try to put the disappointment out of your mind. You spent the rest of the day studying and working on projects, and by the time evening rolled around, you were feeling more productive and less bothered by the earlier events.

As you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You opened it to find Manon standing in the hallway, looking a little sheepish.

"Hey," she said. "I'm sorry again for ditching you earlier. I feel like I owe you an explanation."

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what Manon had to say. "What's going on?" you asked, stepping aside to let her in.

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "It's just...Daniela is going through a tough time right now," she said. "She's been having some personal issues, and I promised her I'd be there for her."

You nodded, feeling a surge of understanding. "That makes sense," you said. "I'm glad you're being a good friend to her."

Manon smiled, looking relieved. "Thanks for understanding," she said. "I promise I'll make it up to you soon."

As Manon turned to leave, you felt a pang of curiosity. What did Manon mean by "making it up" to you? And what exactly was going on between her and Daniela?

You decided to let the conversation drop, not wanting to pry into Manon's personal business. You smiled and nodded, telling her that you understood, and that you were just glad she was being a good friend to Daniela.

Manon smiled back, looking relieved, and you could tell that she was grateful for your understanding. You chatted for a few more minutes, catching up on each other's days, and then Manon said goodnight and headed back to her room.

As you got ready for bed, you couldn't help but think about the conversation you'd just had with Manon. You were glad that you'd been understanding and supportive, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder what was really going on with Daniela. Was she really just going through a tough time, or was there something more to it?

You pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that it was none of your business. You were just glad that Manon was being a good friend, and that was all that mattered.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You were happy to have Manon as a friend, and you were grateful for the understanding and support that you'd shown each other.

The next day, you went about your routine as usual, attending classes and working on projects. You didn't see Manon until lunchtime, when you ran into her in the cafeteria.

She smiled and waved, and you joined her at her table. As you ate, you chatted about your morning, discussing everything from classes to TV shows.

Manon seemed a little more subdued than usual, but you couldn't tell if it was just because she was tired or if something was really bothering her. You asked her if everything was okay, and she nodded, smiling reassuringly.

But as you finished up your lunch and prepared to part ways, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon seemed a little more distant than usual, and you wondered if everything was really okay.

As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You told yourself that you were just being paranoid, that Manon was probably fine and you were just reading too much into things.

But as you went about your day, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. You found yourself wondering what was really going on with Manon, and whether you should try to talk to her about it.

You decided to give Manon some space, figuring that she'll come to you if she needs to talk about something. You went about your day as usual, attending classes and working on projects.

As the day went on, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You wondered if she was okay, and if there was anything you could do to help.

But you also didn't want to pry or push her to talk about something she wasn't ready to discuss. You figured that if she needed someone to talk to, she would come to you.

As the evening drew to a close, you headed back to your dorm, feeling a little more relaxed. You spent some time reading and watching TV, and then got ready for bed.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard a knock at the door. You got up to answer it, expecting it to be one of your friends or maybe a neighbor.

But when you opened the door, you were surprised to see Manon standing there, looking a little sheepish. "Hey," she said, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

You shook your head, feeling a little curious. "No, it's fine," you said. "What's up?"

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "I just wanted to talk to you about something," she said finally. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping aside to let Manon in. As she entered your room, you couldn't help but wonder what she wanted to talk about.

Was it something serious, or just something that was bothering her? And why had she come to you, instead of someone else?

As Manon sat down on your bed, looking a little nervous, you realized that you were about to find out.

You asked Manon what was on her mind, encouraging her to open up. "Hey, what's going on?" you said, trying to sound supportive. "You can tell me anything."

Manon took a deep breath, looking a little nervous. "It's just...I don't know how to say this," she said, hesitating. "But I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately. With school, and my art, and just life in general...I feel like I'm drowning."

You listened attentively, trying to offer a supportive ear. "I'm so sorry, Manon," you said. "That sounds really tough. But you know you can always talk to me, right? I'm here for you."

Manon smiled, looking a little relieved. "Thanks," she said. "Just talking to you makes me feel a little better. But there's something else...something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a little curious. "What is it?" you asked, trying to sound encouraging.

Manon took another deep breath, looking a little nervous. "I've been developing feelings for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it may seem sudden, but I couldn't help the way I feel. And I wanted to be honest with you, even if it means risking our friendship."

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't seen this coming, and you didn't know how to react.

You took a deep breath and told Manon that you felt the same way. "I've been feeling a connection with you too," you said, trying to sound calm. "I value our friendship, but I have to admit, I've been wondering if there's something more between us."

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Really?" she asked, her voice full of excitement.

You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and possibility. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.

Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'm so glad," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long."

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection and understanding that you'd never felt before. It was like you'd been waiting for this moment for a long time, and now that it was finally here, you were ready to seize it.

Manon leaned in closer, her face inches from yours. You could feel the tension between you, the anticipation of what was to come.

And then, in a moment that felt like time standing still, Manon kissed you.

It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it sent shivers down your spine. You felt like you were melting into her, like you were becoming one person.

As you pulled back, gasping for air, you saw the smile on Manon's face. It was a smile of joy, of happiness, of love.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled back, feeling like you were on cloud nine. "I'm glad you did," you said, your voice filled with emotion.

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

You and Manon decided to go on a proper date, to celebrate your newfound feelings. You both agreed that it would be nice to get out of the dorm and explore the town.

Manon suggested a quaint little Italian restaurant that she had been wanting to try, and you agreed. You made a reservation for that evening, and spent the rest of the day counting down the hours until your date.

You felt a little nervous, but Manon's smile put you at ease. You were greeted by the hostess and led to your table, where you spent the next few hours enjoying delicious food and wine, and getting to know each other better.

The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself laughing and joking with Manon like you had known her for years. You talked about everything from your favorite books and movies, to your childhood memories and dreams for the future.

As the evening drew to a close, you walked Manon back to her dorm, feeling like you were on cloud nine. You had never felt such a strong connection with someone before, and you couldn't wait to see where things would go from here.

As you stood outside Manon's dorm, you turned to her and smiled. "I had an amazing time tonight," you said, your voice filled with sincerity.

Manon smiled back, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I had an amazing time too," she said. "Would you like to do it again sometime soon?"

You nodded eagerly, feeling like you were floating on air. "Definitely," you said. "How about tomorrow night?"

Manon laughed, a playful glint in her eye. "You're eager, aren't you?" she teased.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Maybe just a little," you admitted.

Manon smiled, her expression softening. "I like that," she said. "Tomorrow night sounds perfect."

As you leaned in to kiss her goodnight, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

—

You finished getting dressed in your usual baggy outfit, feeling comfortable and relaxed. You headed downstairs, where Manon was waiting for you, looking stylish and put-together as always.

"Ready?" she asked, smiling at you.

You nodded, and Manon held out her hands, expecting you to take them. You felt a little flutter in your chest as you intertwined your fingers with hers, feeling a sense of excitement and nervousness.

Manon led the way, walking confidently through the dorm and out into the cool evening air. You followed her, feeling a sense of trust and reliance on her. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you were happy to follow her lead.

As you walked to the cinema, Manon chatted easily about her day, telling you about her classes and her friends. You listened attentively, feeling grateful for her presence in your life.

When you arrived at the cinema, Manon bought your tickets and led you to the concession stand. "What do you want to eat?" she asked, smiling at you.

You shrugged, feeling a little indecisive. "Whatever you want," you said.

Manon laughed and ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas. You carried the snacks while Manon led the way to the theater.

As you found your seats and settled in for the movie, Manon reached for your hand again, intertwining your fingers with hers. You felt a sense of comfort and security, knowing that she was there with you.

As the movie started, you and Manon settled in, watching the opening scenes with interest. But as the film progressed, you found yourself becoming more and more aware of Manon's presence beside you.

You felt her hand in yours, her fingers intertwined with yours in a gentle but firm grasp. You felt her arm against yours, her shoulder brushing against yours as you both laughed at a funny moment in the movie.

As the tension in the film built, you found yourself leaning in closer to Manon, your heads almost touching as you both watched the screen with rapt attention. You could feel her warm breath on your skin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Manon seemed to sense your movement, and she turned to you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. You met her gaze, feeling a jolt of electricity as your eyes locked.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the movie forgotten. Then, without thinking, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.

Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.

The movie played on, forgotten, as you and Manon lost yourselves in the moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, the world around you melting away as you focused on the sensation of Manon's lips against yours.

Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.

"I guess we got a little distracted," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Just a little," you replied, your voice equally soft.

Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I don't mind," she whispered. "I liked it."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.

You and Manon decided to get a little more romantic, sharing another kiss or two in the darkness of the theater. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.

Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.

As you kissed, you felt a sense of connection with Manon that you'd never felt before. It was like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, and you knew that you were meant to be together.

Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.

"I think we've made our point," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "I guess we have," you replied, your voice equally soft.

Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I'm so glad we did," she whispered. "I feel like I've been waiting for this moment for so long."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.

"I'm glad too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion.

As the movie came to an end, you and Manon reluctantly pulled apart, smiling at each other like fools. You knew that this was just the beginning of something special, something that would change your life forever.

You walked out of the theater hand in hand, feeling like you were on top of the world. You knew that you had found your soulmate in Manon, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for you both.

As you strolled through the quiet streets, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. You knew that you had found your perfect match, and you were grateful for every moment you spent with Manon.

And as you looked into her eyes, you knew that you would love her forever.

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