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lipglossanon · 7 months

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Kiss & Tell

Stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

✨ and now its sequel: Infatuation ✨

for @nvoirs 💜 I hope you enjoy 🫣

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest, condescending Leon, muscle kink, teasing, kissing, dirty talk, grinding, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, spit kink, biting, creampie

not proofread ✍️

title from Kiss & Tell by I Don’t Know How But They Found Me

It’s so unfair!

You glare at Leon as he wipes his face and neck with a towel before setting it on his shoulder. He’s been working out in the garage since one of his friends gave him their old weight bench.

You’re going to combust. It’s insane how hot you find Leon all sweaty and shirtless, especially his abs. You find yourself staring at him every time he finishes up and makes his way through the house and upstairs to shower and change.

He’s caught you staring before but this time instead of smirking at you, he stops at the arm of the couch, wiping the sweat off with a gym towel.

“See something ya like, princess?” His mouth ticks up into a half smile, eyes trailing down your body.

“Shouldn’t you be showering?” You counter, voice laced with irritation, pointedly keeping your eyes on his face.

“So mean to me, little sis,” he teases, tossing his sweaty towel at you, “was gonna ask if you wanted to join me.”

Arousal buzzes hot and heavy in your blood as you deflect the towel, batting it into the floor.

“What makes you think I’d want to be invited?”

He steps around to stand in front of you, leaning forward and bracing himself by placing one hand behind your head on the back of the couch.

“Because I can see those cute little nipples, sis,” he murmurs in your ear, free hand coming up to pinch one of your stiff buds and making you gasp, “thought I’d be nice and offer you a chance for me to get your tits all nice and soapy when I play with’em.”

“You’re so lucky we’re home alone,” you finally grit out, body betraying you as your back arches into his hand as he tugs roughly on your nipples.

He laughs down at you, pulling away to stand up straight, “So is that a yes?”

You shake your head, “Why should I? I’m not the one who’s all gross and sweaty.”

“That’s an easy fix, princess,” he bends down and grabs you, hoisting you over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

“Leon!” You thrash in his hold but aren’t able to really move, “put me down!”

Your thighs rub together making you realize how wet you’ve become, the gusset of your panties sticking to your cunt. Bringing you into his room, Leon shuts and locks the door before dropping you down onto his bed.

“Take your clothes off before I do,” he says, shedding his own shorts, but leaving his briefs.

He watches as you slip your clothes off, eyes greedily watching while you pull your panties down, clear strings of slick clinging to the crotch of your underwear breaking when you pull them completely away from your cunt.

“Fuck, so wet already,” he reaches down to palm himself through his briefs making your thighs press together.

“Big brother,” you whine, eyes moving up from his bulge to his sweaty abs, “I hate you.”

He laughs low in his throat making you drop your head back with a moan.

“I sincerely doubt that, princess,” you feel the bed dip with his weight, making you look back up at him, “this little pussy is crying for my attention too much for you to hate me.”

He grabs you around the waist and flips you both over, his back now pressed to the bed with you straddling his hips.

“Look at how wet she is,” he coos mockingly, thumb pressing against your slippery clit, “fucking soaked, mmm my baby sis’ got the wettest little pussy.”

“Leon,” you mewl wantonly, grinding against his pelvis, smearing slick all over his skin.

“I know,” he lowers his voice into a condescending tone, making your cunt clench around nothing, “rub that needy little princess pussy all over me, let me feel how wet you are.”

Your nails dig into his pecs as you slide upward, seating yourself across his twitching abs, cunt dripping all over his muscles.

“Good girl,” he reaches up to grab the fat of your hips, “c’mon, show big brother how much you like this.”

Whimpering, you swivel your hips and grind down against his tight abs, pussy lips parting to drool slick directly onto his stomach.

“I’ve been watching you,” he gloats, eyes moving up your body to meet your own half lidded gaze, “I see how hot it makes you after I work out. Always staring at my six pack, like you wanna lick the sweat off me.”

Your nails dig into his chest as you moan, “Nooo, that’s not it.”

“Then what? Hmm? Tell me or I’m gonna spank that hot little pussy til you’re screaming.”

Your whole body shudders, hips bucking erratically as white hot arousal blazes through you.

He laughs derisively, “What a slut. Need that princess cunt spanked, baby? Need big bro to show her who’s in charge?”

“N-no, wanna cum like this,” you finally gasp out, body thrumming like a live wire.

“Yeah?” He smiles with too much teeth, “what a dirty girl. I’ll let you get off this way, but that means I can do whatever I want after.”

Nodding quickly, you agree, “Whatever you want.”

“I’m gonna enjoy myself tonight,” he sighs out, eyes bright, “gonna pound your little pussy til she’s sore and dripping cum.”

“Leon, please,” you mewl, pressing your clit against his flexing abs as you rub against him.

He guides your hips into a circular motion, helping you hump against his muscles.

“Wanna see that messy little pussy cream all over me, baby,” he goads, “show big brother how much you love this, how much you wanna soak my stomach with that slippery cunt.”

The way he’s pressing you down into his body has your clit grinding perfectly against him. Spreading your legs wider lets you drag your slit against his stomach more easily, barreling you head first into a toe curling orgasm. Your back arches as you choke out a moan, pussy gushing slick all over Leon’s abs.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” he murmurs, fingers flexing against your hips, “cumming all over me baby sis, feels so dirty.”

After the tremors of your orgasm slow to a stop, you finally blink open your eyes to see Leon staring up at you, pupils blown until only a faint ring of blue can be seen. He helps you lift up onto your shaky knees, eyes flicking down to his stomach.

“Goddamn, what a slimy fucking mess,” he growls, “come up here and sit on my face so I can lick that messy pussy clean.”

Cunt dripping, you shakily climb up Leon’s chest and broad shoulders until you’re kneeling over his face.

“So hot,” he groans, “such a fat wet cunt.”

With a firm grip of your hips, he makes you sit your pussy down onto his face. Groaning, he rubs your cunt all over his mouth, tongue licking up the slick that’s still coating your pussy. His moans and grunts send vibrations up through your cunt, making you whine and grind down against his mouth, clit throbbing at the attention.

Leon, gripping your thighs tightly, lifts you up to pull in a quick breath before lowering you back down onto his tongue, spearing you open and licking into your hole.

“Big brother,” you whine softly, “s’too much.”

Groaning deep in his chest, you feel it vibrate through your body. He nuzzles his face even deeper into your pussy, nose grinding and bumping against your swollen clit.

“Fuck,” you moan, carding your fingers through his hair to grip tightly, “so good.”

Easing yourself down more, you slowly ride his face, rubbing your pussy against his lips and tongue as he moans appreciatively.

“I’m g’nna cum again,” your body curves inwards, thighs tightening around his head, “Leon, fuck!”

Feeling as he fucks his tongue up into your pussy, he shifts his hands to grab your ass, guiding your hips into a dirty grind against his mouth. His tongue slides out of your hole to tease across your clit with soft circles. Your hips rock down, grinding your cunt against his mouth as you moan loudly, cumming all over his face.

Pushing you up, he helps you lay down against his side.

“Now it’s my turn,” he grins, face covered in slick as he climbs on top of you.

You glance down to see a damp spot on his underwear from his leaking tip right before he tugs his briefs completely off. Whimpering, you softly glide your hand across his swollen cock.

“Fuck, feels so good,” he humps into the loose tunnel of your fingers, “but wouldn’t it feel so much better in your pussy, little sis?”

You nod quickly, “Please, want it so bad.”

With a groan, Leon notches the head of his fat cock against your hole and bottoms out inside your pussy with one slick thrust. His fat dick grinds against your g-spot as his tip kisses your cervix, making you clench repeatedly around him. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, pulling on the sweaty strands as he ruts deep in your pussy.

He leans down and kisses you, settling his body weight against you and pinning you in place. Mewling into his mouth, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside to lick across yours, sucking on your bottom lip before pulling away.

“Pussy’s just sucking me in, princess,” he grunts against your neck, wetly sucking on the skin, “greedy cunt just needs big brother’s cock, huh?”

Crying out as he sinks his teeth into the same spot on your neck, your hands claw and scratch at his back while he laughs. A mewling sob escapes your lips when he pulls away to bite you again.

“Big brother, I-I can’t,” your nails sink into his skin, leaving a hot scorching trail in their wake as you drag them up to his shoulders.

He rocks his hips in and out of your pussy as he kisses and bites across your neck.

“But I can tell how much you like it,” he taunts, fucking his cock deeper into your spasming cunt, “and I told you I wanted to use your pussy til it’s sore and dripping cum. Don’t you want that? Want big brother to feel good and use your fat, needy pussy?”

He coos at you when you cry out from how deep he’s bullying his cock into your sopping wet cunt, the pleasure almost overtaking your senses. You babble out something that could pass as agreement, eyes fluttering as his thumb starts up a tight harsh circle on your pudgy clit.

“There you go. You can be such a good girl when you wanna be,” he praises you, his eyes staring down at you dark and mean, “you’re so fucking hot, princess. Cumming all over my stomach like a fucking slut.”

“S’good, big brother,” you cry softly, cunt fluttering around his dick as he grinds against your cervix, “too big.”

He groans, bending forward to kiss you messily, tongue licking into your panting mouth. You whimper, hips bucking up to help Leon fuck into you faster and harder. Slick gushes from your hole when he pinches your clit softly between his thumb and forefinger.

Eagerly, you suck his tongue into your mouth while he softly circles around your clit, mewling and whining when he pinches it over and over. He pulls away from you, propping himself up on one forearm as his gaze sears into you.

“Open up,” he smirks down at you, “show me your tongue, princess.”

Shyly opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out. A hot glob of spit falls from his mouth to land in yours. Humping your pussy, he slowly drips his spit down onto your tongue, watching as you struggle to keep it from slipping out of your open mouth.

“Swallow.”

Moaning, you swallow the spit collected in your mouth. Before you even finish, he’s pressing a messy kiss into your lips, tongue licking into your mouth to share more spit with you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, such a slutty fucking sister,” he pulls away from your mouth, burying his face against your neck, “fuck, ‘m about to bust a nut in your hot little pussy.”

His hips snap harder into yours, cock thrusting in and out of your sopping wet cunt again and again, until he’s drilling you into the mattress. You squeeze his shoulders as he rubs your clit in fast harsh circles.

“I’m g-getting close,” you whisper, “I’m gonna cum again, big brother.”

His eyes are blown out and wild, “Do it. Want you creaming all over my cock, always squeeze me so fucking tight.”

A few more rough pinches to your swollen clit has your back arching up into him, electric currents fizzing through your blood as he fucks you through your orgasm. He growls and drops his weight into you more, hips pistoning into your cunt so hard and fast you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Fuck me,” he grits out, “so tight, I’m—“

With a cut off moan, he buries himself balls deep into your fluttering walls and cums, filling your pussy with hot, sticky jizz. Your sore cunt milks his cock as your own orgasm slowly tapers off.

“Take it, take it,” he chants in your ear, hips rutting into you softly as his cock finishes spurting the last of this thick cum in your soft cunt, “so good.”

He finally pulls out with a hiss, flopping down onto the bed next to you. His arm wraps around your middle and tugs you into him, his legs tangling with yours.

“It’s too hot,” you whine, cunt feeling sore as you feel it drip a mix of cum and slick onto the bedspread.

“Mmm now you have to take that shower with me,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Rolling your eyes, you can’t stop the smile spreading across your face, “You're such a dork.”

“And you like it,” he teases, kissing the shell of your ear, “c’mon, join me, and I’ll eat you out in the shower.”

Goosebumps race across your skin as he helps you sit up.

“I think I can make an exception then,” you grin, letting him help you stand.

His hot palm cups your pussy, eyes dilated as they stare into your face, “You're being so messy, baby. Dripping all over my sheets.”

You gasp as he fingerfucks the cum back into your leaking hole. Leon then scoops you up into a bridal carry and makes his way out of his room to the neighboring bathroom.

“I’m going to carry you, princess,” he smirks, “no mess to clean up.”

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hxltic · 1 year

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imagine having an attitude w miguel o’hara

Even though he’s quick to anger, and very easily irritated, he’s never had that problem with you. You were his treatment in a way. You always dealt with people in a more kind manner, so he just lets you speak until you’ve given him permission, but today it seems as though the roles have reversed.

It’s even more angering with the fact that he just can’t seem to take you seriously, your cheeks bursting red with anger and fists unconsciously clenching, but he just leans against the wall, staring at you. Through you, almost. To be fair, whatever you were mad at you would probably get over later. But that wasn’t the point. You were angry and pissed off.

And you also hadn’t seen him in a relative amount of time; Spiderman work wasn’t easy. This was something you’d come to accept when you got with him, and you don’t mind being alone, but somehow it’s brought itself to matter in this very moment.

So how did you end up bent over as he plowed into you from behind? His brain pieced together that you just needed some dick. Whenever you two were intimate in any way, the next day he’d see you extra happy, beaming even, and the memories would flash in your head every now and then.

Of course, when he kissed you the first time, you pushed him off and said he was deflecting.

He doesn’t really run away from his problems, but this one could wait.

“You’re givin’ me the silent treatment, you can’t still be mad at me amor?”

Truth be told, you were quiet because you couldn’t speak. Your neck was upright, your throat dragging back and forth on the bed sheets, and your arms were forced back into his large, calloused hands. Your eyes fall closed when you grunt in response.

If he was being honest, this wasn’t even his favorite part. It was watching the scowl on your face dissipate into ecstasy and the irritated deep sighs transform into moans each time you came.

He rectifies his position by adjusting his foot placement and dropping his tight hold to your wrists, effectively finding a deeper way into you. It was messy and rough, the stickiness around where the two of you meet and the reddening skin pure evidence. Miguel bent his body over yours so your back was flush with his carved chest.

A muffled sound fell into the bed with every snap of his hips. His hair slightly stuck to his face when he forced his mouth into your right shoulder, digging his sharp canines past your skin. Not enough to draw blood, but it hurt and left a mark nonetheless. He sucked the skin and kissed it as if soothing. The senses were too much combined with your low pain tolerance, compelling tears to swell in buds.

He groans, “Not so upset now are you? If it was dick you wanted, you could’ve just said so.” He adds, “fuck, eres una belleza.”

You couldn’t even snap back. With this he flipped you over and spread your legs wide. Before you had the time to look down, his pink tongue was sliding through your folds eagerly.

“Miguel wait-“ you attempt breathlessly, but it was no good. He ate like he’s never eaten before: pushing his face between your thighs and wrapping the plush of them over his shoulders to press both palms on your abdomen. He shook his head sloppily, continuing regardless of your pleas.

The man wasn’t satisfied until the slick of you was dripping down his chin and coating his nose. Your back arched off the bed as you came, allowing those tears to fall in streams to your ears. Of course, he continued to slurp and suck and moan as you twist your hips in an escape to shake him off, but those muscles weren’t just for show. He only moved with you and gripped harder, almost taunting you, or giving you permission to try and escape from him. You couldn’t.

It wasn’t until you were pleading for him that he considered giving you mercy.

“MiguelMiguelMiguel- fuck! c-come off please,” you’d beg, accompanied by a futile effort to push his arms away. Like he was shaking his head no, he’d shake into you.

“mmphh.”

©️hxltic

i don’t speak spanish spare me

#miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel smut #spider man #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut

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rhaenyratargcryen · 2 years

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like real people do (eddie munson)

summary: you’ve known eddie for a few months now, but nearly every day you discover something new about him that breaks your heart and makes you desperate for him to know how much you care for him.

author’s note: eddie deserves soft and sweet and gentle love he deserves to be held and to feel loved and to be cared for and to know a life outside of the cruel world he was born into and i intend to give that to him one ~1.5k word fic at a time

pairing: eddie munson x reader (this one is gender neutral - no gendered terms used!!) word count: 1.4k warnings: hmmmmmm none

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

The two of you have been lounging in bed in his shoebox studio apartment all afternoon, passing a couple of blunts back and forth and shooting the shit. You had curled up onto your side, facing him, only twenty minutes ago, and haven’t shifted since, transfixed by the way his profile – his beautiful, beautiful profile – moves, the way his smile reaches his eyes, the way his Adam’s apple dips, as he talks. Talks about music, and movies, and maybe going to the lake for the weekend, or to the city to check out a new record shop one of his buddies had told him about, and he doesn’t give you the chance to interject, but it’s alright, because he’s so pretty, and you think you’re starting to fall in love with him. So you’re alright with listening to him talk.

“What were you like in high school?”

Eddie turns to face you, a slow smile spreading across his face. His hair tickles your nose, fanned across the pillow beneath the both of you, and you edge your face just that much closer to his.

“You wanna know?”

You nod and he hums, shifting onto his side, bringing one hand up and underneath his cheek to prop his head up. It’s easier for him to look at you this way.

“I…I used to, um…”

You look at Eddie expectantly as he trails off, his chest stuttering on an inhale, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Do you know what Dungeons & Dragons is?”

There’s a moment’s pause before you start giggling. Hurt flashes across Eddie’s face and you put a hand onto his chest, shaking your head as he asks, “What? What’s so funny?”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” you laugh, “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just – I used to play D&D in high school, too.”

“What?!” Eddie sits up abruptly, your hand falling from his chest onto the bed. You roll onto your back so you can look up at him and nod. He prods your side and you giggle, smacking his hand. “You what? How has this never come up before?”

You shrug, hiding your sheepish face behind the palms of your hands. “Didn’t want you to think I was a nerd.”

“Baby,” Eddie whines and pries your hands back from your face. “I like nerds!”

“I know that now!”

“We’re discussing this later. You played a rogue, didn’t you? Or maybe a ranger. You little sneak.”

You grin and he snaps. “Fucking knew it. I know my baby. Remind me to circle back to this.”

Eddie laughs and you join back in, the two of you giggling like children. Eddie falls back down onto the bed beside you, curling onto his side and laughing into your neck, before he palms your cheek and turns you to face him again, your body following your head, your mouths inches apart. Your stomach aches in the best way and you pant against his lips, his eyes trained on you.

“No, but seriously,” you breathe, carding your fingers gently through his hair. He leans forward and kisses the end of your nose. “What were you like? Wanna know.”

Eddie shrugs. “I was a nerd. An outcast. A freak, or whatever. I played D&D and listened to loud music and lived in the trailer park on the edge of town with my uncle, so people thought I was plotting to kill them and unleash the power of Satan unto Hawkins. Which, for the record, I was.”

You laugh, but you can tell that he’s deflecting because the subject is painful for him, uncomfortable. You run your thumb over his cheek and smile when he sighs against your mouth.

“I don’t know. I was just some guy, you know?”

You shake your head in disbelief. Some guy. “I would’ve had the biggest crush on you, you loser.”

Eddie’s mouth gapes slightly, the apples of his cheeks rosing. “What? What do you mean?”

“Okay, well, first of all: you’re a total fucking smoke show.”

This invokes a guttural reaction from him that you think might be a combination of Eddie’s versions of embarrassment and desire.

“You listen to all of my favorite bands. You play Dungeons & Dragons, apparently. Those stupid rings you wear, and that vest you cut up and put patches all over –”

“You think my rings are stupid?”

“Munson,” you huff, smacking him playfully, no heart behind it, on the chest. “I would’ve been so hopelessly in love with you.”

“Yeah?” The sound of his voice tells you this is perking him up.

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip, running your fingers along the bare skin that’s peeking out from under his tee shirt where it’s ridden up. “You would have looked at me from across the cafeteria and I would have melted into a puddle right on the floor. Like, if we had any classes together and you ever asked me to borrow a pencil? Or if you had a question about the homework? I’d have been done for. I mean, I don’t think I ever would’ve done anything about it…but I would’ve crushed on you so goddamn hard.”

Eddie has this giant, giddy grin on his face, and you can’t decide if you want to kiss or smother it from his face. “Why wouldn’t you have done anything about it?”

“I was a loser, too, Eddie,” you laugh, squeezing his cheeks. “People thought I was a freak. We would’ve been the same brand of freak, sure, but I didn’t have any courage in high school. I never would have thought about asking you out, because I would have assumed you’d turn me down.”

He considers this for a second. “I wouldn’t have turned you down.”

“Once again, I know that now, duh.”

Eddie has one hand on your neck, his thumb stroking the length of your jaw. He watches your face for a second, then murmurs, “Do you think we would have been friends?”

“Maybe?”

“Why only maybe?”

“I dunno,” you whisper. “You’re so…outgoing. And I’m a lot different now than I was in high school, but I was so shy.”

“That’s cute,” he says, surveying you with pursed lips, and you roll your eyes. “Well, you’d have been in Hellfire, right? In this hypothetical scenario where we went to high school together. That was the D&D club at Hawkins. You’d have joined?”

“God, if you were Dungeon Master, Eddie, I’d have…I don’t think I ever would have been able to pay attention. You would have…”

Eddie laughs at you as you trail off, running his hand your side down to squeeze your hip. “Yeah? You’d have had a crush on your Dungeon Master, is that it?”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t tell him he’s wrong.

“That’s frowned upon, you know,” he jokes, cupping the back of your thigh and pulling it up and over his.

“That’s why you wouldn’t have known!”

Eddie smirks at you, something unspoken passing between the two of you, and you know that no matter whether you’d said anything or not, he would have known. He’s been able to read you from the jump - from the moment you’ve met, there’s never been anything that you’ve felt that he hasn’t picked up on.

“I’m glad you’re here with me, now. I’m sorry high school sucked for you, baby.”

Eddie shrugs again, but you shake your head and tuck yourself into him, push one hand underneath his torso so he has to shift closer to you, too. He lays his head against your chest and lets you start to run your fingers through his hair.

“It sounds like none of those people really knew you. That’s what it sounds like to me.”

Again, you get nonchalance in response. You worry you’re about to cross a line, to overstep some unspoken boundary - you have only been seeing one another a couple of months, after all – but you feel Eddie squeeze you tighter when you try to pull back even a little bit.

“You’re allowed to be mad about it, Eddie. At the people who made everything miserable for you.”

“It wasn’t all miserable,” he murmurs into your neck.

“No?”

“No.” Eddie sighs. “I had the Hellfire Club. And my band. And my uncle.”

“Tell me about them, then.”

He grins against the skin of your neck, and you close your eyes as he starts to tell you about all of the reasons he would have stayed in Hawkins. You can’t help but feel glad he decided to get out.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things season four #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot

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youaintnothinbuta · 5 months

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“Hey now, don’t you start questioning me too.” — Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: your mama is pretty insistent (in a loving, supportive way) on you and Elvis making it serious and going steady with him, but you’re not at that point yet. His is too, and you talk about it on the phone after you hang out. Part 2 here

Pairing: Elvis or Austin!elvis x reader

Word count: 600

Warnings: fluff!! Probably typos though SORRY

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You had just gotten home from your evening with Elvis, the warmth of your home chasing away the chill of the cold evening. With a contented sigh, you shrug off your coat and hang it neatly on the rack.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Your dad called to you from the living room, hearing you come in. Both of your parents were sitting on the couch watching tv.

“Hi mama, hi daddy.” You replied cheerfully, kicking your shoes off by the door before going to the living room to join them.

“I put your clean washing on your bed, darling, it just needs to be put away.” Your mom informed you with a warm smile.

“Oh, thank you,” you replied gratefully.

“Not a problem. Are those flowers by your bed from Elvis?” she inquired with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, they are,” you smiled, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks.

“What’s the occasion? Did we forget your birthday?” Your dad teased, playfully.

You laughed, “no occasion. Just because, I guess.”

“Mmm,” your mother hummed, “are you two going steady then?” She prodded further.

“Mom! No.” You rolled your eyes blithely.

“Oh, well, I’m sure he’ll ask you soon. How was your date, anyway?” Your mom teased you some more, as you sunk down on the couch beside her.

“It wasn’t really a date, we were just hanging out.”

“Did he kiss ya? That’s a date if he did.”

“Mama stop!” Your cheeks burnt bright red, “enough with the questions,” you say, trying to deflect her curiosity. “I promise, if anything changes between me and Elvis, you’ll be the first to know.”

Your mom laughs, a knowing glint in her eye. “Oh, I’m sure I’d find out sooner or later,” she says with a nudge. “His mama and I have a way of keeping each other informed.”

You shake your head, unable to suppress a smile at the thought of the close bond between your two families. Despite the teasing and the questions, you know that your parents only want the best for you, and their support means the world to you.

Later that night you sat in bed, on the phone to Elvis.

You leaned back against your pillow, “Oh, she’s relentless! Next she’ll wanna know what color panties I wear, and how many minutes we spend making eye contact,” you joked, recounting the evening’s playful interrogation to Elvis.

He chuckled softly on the other end of the line, “mine wan’t much better. Mama keeps hollering and nagging at me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “Well, what did you tell her?” you pressed, unable to resist the temptation to know.

“Hey now, don’t you start questioning me too,” Elvis teased, his voice filled with mock indignation, “I just told her ‘When the time’s right, whatever happens will happen.’”

Your heart twisted a little at his vague response, but you chose to ignore it. The two of you chatted for a while longer, exchanging stories and sharing laughter over inside jokes. Eventually, though, it was time to say your goodnights.

“I wish I could be there with you right now,” Elvis murmured softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I know, Elvis. I wish you were here too,” you replied, feeling a pang of sadness.

It was hard to get to sleep that night. You couldn’t stop thinking about that vague, non-answer he gave. You really were hoping he’d give you a hint that he did want something serious with you. Eventually though, you managed to drift off, your overthinking tiring you out.

Little did you know, he was very purposeful in leading you astray, not wanting you to have the slightest idea he was planning on making it official very soon.

Anyone up for a part 2 where he asks you to go steady finally??

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brabblesblog · 9 months

Text

To be loved.

A fix-it of sorts to that moment in Sharess’ Caress with the drow twins. Includes a tiny amount of Halsin.

Astarion x F!Tav

Angst, comfort, and smut.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

Thanks to @elora-the-slutty-songstress for the opportunity to take on this idea!

I first noticed it whilst Nym was tongue deep in me. I had been watching Astarion pound into Sorn, and it had been a majestic sight. My hand grips Halsin’s hair quickly, a gesture for him to stop sucking on my nipples and watch.

The druid lets out a soft, questioning groan as he lifts his head up to meet my gaze. Halsin’s chest heaves, and he takes a moment to tamper down his arousal before he speaks.

“Yes, my heart?” he asks. I nod over at Sorn and Astarion.

“I think we need to stop this right now.”

Halsin follows my gaze. He notices it too, that blankness in Astarion’s face as he drives his hips again and again into Sorn. It had been three weeks or so after Cazador’s demise, and ever since that night in the graveyard, Astarion had seemed fine. I had even slept with Halsin once, a decision I wasn't sure was the best, in all honesty, but Astarion had taken it all with a grace and acceptance that made me fall all the more in love with him.

“Sorn. Nym.” Halsin’s voice breaks through the sounds of sex - the ragged breaths, moans, and slapping of flesh. “I would very much appreciate it if I could get a moment with you two alone,” he says. The twins raise their eyebrows, surprised at the sudden change in plans, but I nod at Nym as she lifts her head up from between my legs, and with my approval they both move off to approach Halsin.

Sorn takes one look at Astarion and moves away. For a second, Astarion’s hips pump into air, as it takes him a bit to realize Sorn had moved. Astarion blinks, twice, then his eyes sharpen.

“What in the hells-“ he begins to say, then notices the twins arm in arm with Halsin. He also notices me looking at him with an expression that told him I was concerned for him. He sighs. He had ruined it, yet again.

Halsin puts an arm around each twin. “Come, and let’s get a larger room than this. We’ll need it if you two are to see my ursine trick.” At those words, the drow are immediately convinced, and I watch them as the three quickly put on clothes and make their way out of this room and into the adjacent one.

Halsin gives me one last look before he does. Make sure he’s okay.

I nod, and then as the door shuts, finally turn my attention to Astarion.

He sits on his knees, and as I approach he opens his arms to let me in. I hug him tightly.

“I thought you wanted to have some fun,” he murmurs into the crook of my neck. I shake my head.

“Not when you’re not having fun, Astarion. And before you say anything - I can tell.”

That shuts down his attempt to deflect, and he lets his mouth hang open. We two both pull away from the hug, and he takes a moment to collect his thoughts.

“It felt like a good idea to try, but I think I may have bitten off more than I could handle at the moment,” he says quietly. “Halsin is one thing, but having even more people..”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and I take his hand, squeezing it gently. I want to hold him tight and shield him from the world, from his own mind, but I know I cannot. And that I should not, unless that is what he wants.

Astarion considers the room, his eyes scanning it. He then considers his own cock, laying there against his lap, still half-hard. It did feel good, and he did want to do something.

“Ban,” he says. “It would be a waste to have paid for this room, and not to fully use it, don’t you think?” He tries to smirk, his hands flying to my waist, tugging me close.

“We can afford to lose the gold. It’s not a big deal,” is my reply. I try to be careful, knowing that he might just be doing this to please me. I put both hands on his shoulders, meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to do anything. We can just go.”

He frowns, then shakes his head. “No, I.. I do think I want to do something. At least, something with you. Just you.” He swallows past a small lump in his throat. “After all, I ruined it,” he adds in a small mumble, spoken so softly I barely can hear it.

“Just - no.” I shake my head at him. “Astarion, look at me.” The sternness is back in my face as I cup his cheek. “You did not ruin it. This was the point of it all. To have fun, sure, but more importantly, to see how you were doing. You tried, you saw that it was too much, and that is that. If you want more, if you truly want more - that can be arranged. But I do not want you to do it just to placate me or whatever other messed up idea you have. Okay?”

As I speak, I see his expression soften. He realizes he’s safe here, he’s heard, and that makes him calm down and let his walls down. The apprehension is replaced with a genuine smile, and he covers my hand on his cheek with his own, feeling my knuckles.

“Okay, darling,” he acknowledges. “I still do want you, though.” He looks down between his legs, giving his half-hard cock a glance. Then he drags his eyes across my body, from my mound all the way up to my breasts, and finally my face. His expression says it all - says that he’s still hungry and wanting.

“Use your words, my love,” I say, my hand leaving his cheek to rest on his chest. My other hand moves down to grip his waist, my thumb tracing circles on his obliques. “What do you want? I need specifics.”

“I want.. to be loved,” he whispers, his eyes boring into mine. “I want to be pleasured, to feel you want my pleasure as much as you want yours.”

I laugh. “Easy. I’ve always felt that way.” I know that even with his countless sexual encounters, he barely got off. “I’ll make you come so hard you’ll forget your own name. How does that sound?”

“Sounds wonderful, my love,” he says, his voice dropping into a purr. He moves off of his knees, and shuffles backwards until he’s sitting at the top of the bed, his back to the headboard. As I crawl towards him, he wraps a hand around his cock and strokes a few times, just to bring it back up.

My hand covers his, and I stop him. “Let me,” I whisper. I sit between his spread legs, one hand on his cock and the other reaching up to stroke the planes of his pectoral muscles. I feel them flex as he reacts to my touch, as his cock twitches in my grasp. He lets out a shaky exhale, his eyes falling shut.

“Just enjoy the feeling,” I murmur. “Tell me how good my hand feels on you.” I stroke him from the root to tip, swiping my thumb at the tip to capture the precum, and spreading it along his whole length as I stroke back down. He’s leaking, his cock feeling exquisitely hard and warm on my palm. The pink flush on its tip almost makes me want to rush it and just sit on it, but I hold myself back. This isn’t for me.

Astarion doesn’t speak. He lets his body tell me instead, his hips canting upwards involuntarily to fuck my hand. His hands grip the sheets, and a small whimper escapes him. He’s incredibly present, and every moment drags like eternity in his mind. Finally, he finds his words.

“More,” he groans. “Please.”

“Of course.” I shift to lean down on him, and lick the tip, swiping my tongue over his slit to taste him. His musk, mixed with the salty precum and the heady scent of arousal are almost overwhelming. He hisses as I lick him, the surprise of the sensation making his hips buck hard. I smile and then move my mouth over him, taking in the head. My tongue presses against his frenulum, feeling the ridges there. My hand keeps stroking at the base, and I work to sync my hand with my mouth’s movements.

That move earns a whine from those delectable lips. His hand moves from the sheets to grip my hair instead, pushing me down deeper against his cock. Astarion’s hips roll, the rhythm uneven and desperate, seeking the heat and wetness of my mouth more than anything else. The wet, obscene sounds drive him closer and closer to the edge, and his ears flush pink as he fights the urge to come right then and there. His eyes still remain closed, enjoying the sensation - enjoying being loved.

I let him fuck my mouth for a few minutes, letting his hand on my hair and his hips dictate the pace. The small whines that come from his mouth make me squeeze my own thighs, and I realize I’m soaking wet too. I hum for a moment, and then pull him out of my mouth with a wet popping sound. “Did you want to come like this? Or-”

My words are cut short as Astarion grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me up to straddle him and to catch me in a crushing kiss. His lips part, his tongue seeking out mine, tasting himself. After a moment, he breaks the kiss, meeting my gaze. His eyes are dilated, but the expression is as tender as I’ve ever seen it. The hunger still lies there, but love overwhelms it.

“I want to come inside you,” he says, the words a request voiced as though it were something I could say no to. I nod, and the moment I do his index and middle fingers find my clit and flick it playfully. I hiss, and he moves those two fingers to my entrance, plunging them in. His thumb replaces their spot on my clit, rubbing in circles.

“So wet, darling,” he whispers, leaning in close so that I can feel his breath against my ear. “So ready for me.” His fingers speed up, the pace insistent and forceful, his thumb flicking against my clit with merciless speed. My hips start bucking, fucking myself on his fingers.

“Say it,” he growls, a little bit of that old aggression creeping into his tone. “Say you want me inside you. Say you want me to fuck you, Ban.”

“Fuck me, Astarion. I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think straight.”

He chuckles, a small, dark sound.

“It would be my pleasure,” he murmurs. He moves his hand off of my weeping cunt, hands grabbing me and lifting me up. In one smooth move, he aims himself against my entrance and lowers me onto his cock, burying himself to the root in me.

I groan as I feel him impaling me, feeling my walls spread to welcome him home. There is no resistance whatsoever; I’m so wet that his length slides in effortlessly. He gasps at the sensation, and we both stay still for a moment, trying to adjust to the feeling before we begin to move.

I move to grasp his shoulders, bracing myself. I move my hips, riding him. My goal is his pleasure, and I am relentless in my attempt to reach just that. Astarion sucks in a breath at the sensation, and his hips hitch for a second, until he manages to figure out my rhythm and match himself to it. His hand goes back to my clit, flicking it with just the right amount of pressure and speed.

His eyes meet mine, and he smiles. “Ride me harder, my love,” he says, and I do so, slamming down harder with every thrust of my hips. The sound of our flesh coming together is drowned out by my own moaning and his, as he slowly loses what little control he had.

Astarion’s breaths come with little whimpers, all semblance of coherency gone now. For once, he has no need to seduce or play a role to get what he wants. It is given, freely, and he relishes it. The hand not on my clit moves to pull my head to his, to touch foreheads.

“I’m close,” he whispers softly. He’s at the very edge, and I can feel his cock twitching inside me as he fights the urge to come. I’m close too, but I would rather him finish first.

I meet his gaze, and our faces are so close the only thing I can see is the crimson of his eyes. I can feel his breath brush over my face as he pants desperately.

“Come for me, Astarion. Give me your seed,” I finally say, and as I do I press my lips against his parted ones. He lets out a loud groan, his hips frantically pumping as he rides out his orgasm. I keep kissing him through it, feeling him coat my insides and fill me up. The fingers he has on my clit lose their rhythm, falling still as he finally lets go.

I wait patiently for him to come to his senses, still riding him, but with a lot more gentleness to my movements. He finally blinks, twice, then takes in a sharp breath.

“That- that was,” he begins, then realizes he doesn’t have the words for it. But it’s okay. He knows I know. He takes a moment, registers where his fingers were, and then realizes.

“Your turn, darling.” He lifts his fingers up to wet them with his saliva, licking and tasting me on them. Then he reaches back down, fingers rubbing and flicking my clit in the way only he knew how. “Do you want it like this, or do you want my mouth?” Astarion offers, his smirk telling me he knew exactly what I wanted.

“Mouth, but I don’t think I’d last in any-” I begin to say, but he laughs and taps my waist, a sign for me to get up. I do so all too quickly, moving off of his now softening cock and laying back down on the bed. As I do, I look down at my cunt, seeing how his spend was spread all over it. He had filled me to the brim.

He looks too, a hungry and amused expression on his face as he moves to position his head between my legs.

“Now that,” he whispers, “is a sight to behold and taste.”

Without another word, he moves down and starts suckling on my clit. His tongue flicks against it as he does, the tip of it insistent and warm.

That coaxes out a moan from me, a soft “Astarion,” as his mouth brings me ever closer to my own climax. He smiles at the sound of his name, and continues his work, his tongue shifting to lap at my cunt instead, starting from my entrance up to my clit.

I’m there, and I let out a strangled gasp to warn him. He takes his cue, and refocuses his attention where it matters most. His lips wrap around my bud again, providing suction and his tongue flicking lazily.

I come, yet again with his name on my lips, and for a moment I lose control of my legs. They jerk, squeezing tightly against his head. I feel myself squirt, gushing against his lips. He laps it all up eagerly, groaning with every pass his tongue makes against my cunt.

As I come down to reality, Astarion lifts his head up and smirks at me. He makes a show of wiping his glistening mouth and chin on the back of his hand, licking off the excess.

“Delicious as always, darling,” he says, but there is a lot more tenderness there than anything else.

I smile softly, and beckon him closer into my arms. He does as asked, laying down with me and placing his head on my chest.

“Did that help?” I ask. “Did it make you feel the way you wanted to feel?”

Hidden from the world, he smiles against my chest.

“You always do, love.” He looks up at me, and I realize it is one of those rare moments where he seems to be at peace.

“Thank you.”

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @elora-the-slutty-songstress

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koolades-world · 9 months

Text

Behind the Scenes

All it took was the watchful eye of your best man.

“How was yer day?” Mammon took your bag from you as the two of you began the walk home from RAD together.

“Uneventful mostly, but not bad. The fact that you were there during Seductive Speechcraft today was more than enough to turn my day around.” You turn and smile at him.

“What’d ya mean?” He glanced over at you.

"Just a bad day. Having you at my side make it better." You try to deflect.

"What happened?" He reached out to grab your hand, which you took.

"A couple things." You avoid his gaze.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Mammon stopped you in your tracks by standing in front of you. He looks right into your eyes, and holds your chin in his hands.

“You’re so caring Mams, but I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” You place a hand on his arm, trying to continue walking. He stops you, holding you close.

"Ya've been havin' bad days for a while now. What's the root? Ya can't hide this from me." You sigh, realize the jig is up.

"There's been this demon at RAD who's been picking on me. Today he stole my Potions homework, shouldered me into my locker, and almost drowned me in the bathroom. Thankfully the professor let me off since I never forget my work at home, but next time I might not be so lucky." You admit.

"He what? Forget the whole homework thing, I'll kill the bastard. Who did this to you? You gotta tell me about this stuff. Where does it hurt? Tell me the truth." Silently, you lift one of your sleeves to reveal the bruise you got from being slammed into the locker and pull down the collar of your uniform reveal the outline of fingers on the back of your neck. You wince at the memory. “What were ya planning to do? Suffer in silence? Mc, I don’t tell ya enough that I love ya.” He cupped your face in his hands, speaking to you gently.

“Usually when this happens, I just use a spell to cover it since I'm not good enough at healing magic yet. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not telling you and I’m sorry for worrying you, but he…” You trail off, glancing around. “I don’t think I should even be telling you this.” Mammon looks at you, then around the both of you as well.

“Ya know damn well ya can tell me anythin’. Fuck him. If ya want, ya can wait until we get home.” Mammon knew whoever this demon was wouldn’t dare to both you while he was around.

“I want to wait until we get home.” You said. That was the only thing you had been sure about that entire conversation. Mammon, instead of letting you walk, opted to carry you, insisting it was for your own good. You couldn’t shake the feeling of paranoia, that he was somehow listening and that you said too much.

One you both arrived home, Mammon sat you down in the living room and called over everyone that was home. In a matter of minutes, Levi, Satan, and Asmo were gathered around you, concerned at how oddly serious Mammon had approached them. While you sat silently, Mammon explained. You could see the rage blossoming on Satan’s face, and the horror on Levi and Asmo’s.

“Sweetie, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Asmo cuddled you in a similar way that Mammon did when he found out.

“I was afraid…” You search their faces for their reactions.

“What did he say to you?” Asmo asked.

“He told me he would hurt my family if I told anyone. Not you guys, my human family. I haven’t seen them in so long and I didn’t want anything to happen to them. I really miss them. He said it would be fun to…” You couldn’t continue. A silent tear makes its way down your face. Mammon wiped it away.

“You don’t have to continue.” Asmo pulled you in closer to him.

“What’s his name?” Satan speaks up for the first time. His face was a little red and his eye has begun to tick, but looked eerily calm otherwise. To the untrained eye, it may have looked like he was calming down, but that couldn’t be more wrong.

“Please don’t hurt him.” You begged them.

“Why?” Levi, who had also been silent, nervously asked.

“He must have a reason for acting the way he has been. He probably has a family, and friends. I don’t think he deserves to be hurt, just maybe talked to.” Asmo gripped you hand tighter at your words and swept some hair out of your face.

“We’ll see what we can do, honey.” Asmo exchanged glances with his brothers. “How about this? We take you to Purgatory Hall to spend time with whoever’s there right now while we go talk to Lucifer, Belphie, and Beel.” He asked you.

“Can’t it wait? What if he’s listening?” You pleaded.

“I can assure you if he is out there and dares to act on his threats, I will see to it personally.” Satan’s tick was stronger and more noticeable.

“Anyways, I trust Sol with my life! If there’s anyone I would let look after you, it’s him.” Asmo told you.

“Ok, if you’re really sure. I trust you. Thanks guys. Can I have a hug?” You rose from your stop to be swarmed by the four demons around you. They took care to not hurt you more. You felt safe in the middle of them.

All of them personally went with you to drop you off at Purgatory Hall. Simeon answered the door, and as soon as he took in the scene, his usual smile faded and called for Solomon. Mammon explained the situation, to which they promptly agreed to help. As Asmo transferred you to Simeon, you heard Solomon asking them to save him a piece. It send a sharp shiver down your spine. As soon as the door shut, their facades dropped.

“They never told us his name. Even if it means I have to check every student at RAD, I will. After all, there can only be so many who meet his description.” Asmo chuckled. Satan was still doing his best to hold in his explosive rage until they were far enough from Purgatory Hall.

“Levi, take Satan somewhere to decompress for a while. We’ll reconvene here once we find the others.” Mammon took out his DDD and began making the calls he needed. Asmo also took out his DDD to check as many Devilgram accounts as he could to see if anyone looked particularly guilty.

As soon as Lucifer found out, he practically flew out of the place to meet up with his brothers. It was easy to see the similarities between him and Satan at this point. Belphie and Beel weren’t far behind. It was rare to see them both so agitated. The three of them quickly went in to see you, to see for themselves that you were ok, and to ask for the name of who has been bothering you. After much coaxing, they finally got it. Lucifer made Simeon promise to heal you, and with that, they vanished again. You didn’t know what to think, and hoped they would adhere to their promise.

Once they found him, they didn’t know what to do first. Question him or get straight to what they were there for: to make him pay for what he did. Each of them had their own idea, that they would never dare tell you. While you were safe and sound at Purgatory Hall, the brothers were having the time of their lives. It was a side of them they would never let you see; the side of them that truly reveled in misery and pain.

That demon vanished.

About a week and a half later, he reappeared a changed demon. He apologized for everything he did and remained out of your way from then on. He seemed physically fine, but was a different demon altogether. He was much nicer, and quieter. His friends avoided you like the plague, afraid of something you didn't understand. In fact, after that, everyone treated you like gold if they didn't already. You weren't stupid. You knew the brothers did something but nobody dared tell you. It was a little uncanny as everyone outside your household was pretending nothing had happened in the first place.

But the brothers were kinder, if possible. They kept bringing you small trinkets and gifts, like flowers and anything they thought you would like. They checked up on you more frequently and took you out more frequently. They always made sure you had everything you wanted even if you didn't ask for it. They even arranged for you to see your family in the human world with one accompanying you, although you suspected the others were watching from a distance. It was still chilling to think about what they did to that demon to make them stop so suddenly upon their return, or where they even went, but you settled on never knowing what they did. You just took their gestures at face value and appreciated them for it.

The brothers were glad you were recovering from everything. Anything you refused to tell them, they got out of the perpetrator. Simeon was an amazing healer, and even Lucifer wasn't sure how he brought him back together, mentally and physically. You could never find out.

errrr i don't really like this </3 the concept was more fun but I can't scrap it after how much i put into it

i kinda wanted it more ominous with less words but i think I need more writing practice for that lol

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lightsinthedistancee · 1 year

Text

Honeysuckle

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Word Count: 9.6k

Summary: Following Joel and Ellie’s return, you’re there to mend things over.

“When night comes, he wants to drown in your presence, drown in your eyes, feel you, remember what home is like again—it requires three of you, together in one place.

The picture of the month he puts together for you is jumbled, vague. There’s already an underlying sense of change, and he’d rather focus on the things that remained.

You. Only you, in his arms.”

A/N: Set right after Joel and Ellie return from the hospital. (Tagged everyone from my “everything” list, but it’s a new character for me, so no pressure to interact!)

Warnings: Brief smut, loss, angst (but with a happy ending and plenty of soft moments!), implied age gap, language

“Joel?”

Your back is pressed to his chest, his heavy arm draped over your waist protectively. Your voice is a whisper in the darkness, a breath in the night.

He tenses at it, presumably reminding himself that they’re safe. Ellie’s just down the hall, and you’re evidently not alerting him to danger. It’s a foreign feeling—their own house, their own space, their own room.

“What?” he finally replies, voice scratchy with sleep and disuse. A smile almost—just almost—pulls at your lips at the way he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You remember how it’d surprised you how cuddly he was the first time the comfort of a shared bed was available.

“You’re thinking,” you simply reply.

He pauses, and you wouldn’t for a second believe it’s in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” You squirm in his grasp, turning over, placing a tender hand on his cheek. You can just barely make out the outlines of his features with streetlight filtering in through the window. “And you’re not sleeping.”

“Well…when you get to my age, you won’t be sleeping that much either.” It comes out serious, in that Joel sort of way when you can never tell if he’s joking. It’s not entertaining to you even if it were.

“Joel,” you insist more forcefully this time. His long nights of restless sleep, bags forming under his eyes, tenseness with the young girl down the hall, are starting to get to you. “Talk to me,” you whisper. “Please.”

He grows quiet, only the sound of your breaths intermingling filling the room. There is something amiss in the household, like a secret withheld from you, one Joel and Ellie both share and despise, a wall driven between them.

His lips part like he’s going to say something, then they close once more. So close, but he deflects. “I’m okay, darlin’,” he promises, his voice softening, filled with a genuine gentleness as his hands creep into your hair. “I’m okay.”

You accept when he presses his lips to yours, slow, tender, as if you might shatter in his hands—a plead for you to let it go.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You met them on the outskirts of Kansas City.

You saw her first. Small, young, evidently scrappy as she tears through the shelves of a long abandoned convenience store. There’s a rage about her, her eyes perhaps slightly red, hands shaking.

But still something youthful—the naivety of it, the inexperience of it. She’s entirely too loud, entirely too unaware of the eyes on her. Too quick to assume nothing will come looking for her. They’re no longer in the safe central city.

A clang sounds from the back of the shop. You wished you hadn’t thought it, that maybe you’d conjured it up. You want to scream at her—protect her—she’s so small after all. But it’s not right. You should run. You should fucking run. But you don’t, paralyzed by this perverse show in front of you as she stills, frozen like a deer in headlights, an awful snarling sound coming out of the dark.

It seems to reverberate, her large doe eyes widening even further as she finally goes for her pack. Too slow. Without a thought, you raise your pistol, and it’s done.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You’d thought the world had gone black for a second.

All you’d heard was a shriek of a name from the girl, followed by a weight slamming into you, a broken cry that you don’t recognize as your own piercing the air. The cool metal in your hand is wrestled away, and as you scramble upright, as your vision clears, a taller figure stands over you.

For a few moments, you just stare at one another. There’s a wildness to his eyes, an unbridled paranoia that’ll strike if prodded too hard. They’ll want your bag—you’re sure of it.

But no. He places a hand on the young girl beside him, eyes never leaving yours, taking a wary step back, ready at any second to turn on his heel and leave.

“Give it back,” you say quietly, eyeing your gun, making every effort to hide the shake in your voice. You won’t survive without it. You might not even survive with it, a thought that continues to weigh heavily on your mind.

He only stares, an imperceptible shake of his head.

“I saved your goddam kid’s life,” you bite out. “If I wanted to shoot her, I would’ve.”

He looks at her for confirmation, and all she has to give him is a look, thought it evidently only partially helps your case.

“You want fuckin’ food or what?” You slowly grab your pack, and he tenses.

“Stop,” he says. So he talks. His voice is gruff, grinding; it makes you shiver.

You catch the young girl’s eye. You don’t miss the way she perks up at the mention. “Well, you guys must be hungry if you’re digging through empty cans like rats.”

“Joel,” she insists, resting a hand on his arm. He gives her a conflicted look; you know there’s nothing more urgent than a hungry kid.

His gaze refocuses on you, and you continue undoing the straps.

“Dump it out,” he orders, flicking the gun for emphasis.

You swallow, obeying, a few cans falling to the floor. You give them a look—see?

You stare back at him fully for the first time, conjuring up enough steel to match his own eyes. “Now put the fucking gun down.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Some days, Joel thinks you’re too soft for him.

Not weak, but soft.

It’s only become more evident with your time in Jackson. The opposite of him.

And it’s painful in a way, especially with you. You flourish here. In a way he doesn’t think he can. Ellie does too, but she’s just a kid; he’d always expected that. You, on the other hand, he always saw you as like him—an adult, for one, but also hardened.

It quickly becomes obvious however, that the years he has on you have done something more to him, something that maybe jarred something loose, that he wants to hide from you, the doubt already settling in with so much time to think, and after all, he feels like he’s broken, because all he seems to dream of nowadays are Fireflies and Ellie, and—

“Joel!”

He comes to as someone snaps their fingers in front of his face.

“You good?” you tease, a small smile on your lips as you lean over the table, placing a cup of coffee in front of him. His honest initial thought is that you have no right to look this good at this hour, dressed for the warmer day in a tank top and shorts that could certainly afford to be longer.

“Yeah,” he finally responds, turning at Ellie’s soft huff of laughter to his right, where she eats some scrambled eggs you’d cooked.

“Old man hearing,” she says under her breath, a smile twitching at her lips.

You don’t try to hide your soft laugh. “He’s trying, El’.”

He rolls his eyes, keeps the smile off his own face in a force of habit, but he’s never minded.

“You wanna work on some guitar after breakfast?” he asks her. It’s Saturday; they have the whole day. But she retreats into herself at the question, clearing her throat, the energy of the room seeming to contract.

“Maybe tomorrow,” she replies, a coldness emerging all of a sudden.

The room lapses into silence, and he clears his throat. You give the two of them a confused look, your own cup of coffee clutched between your hands, the small of your back settled against the counter.

He doesn’t want you to know.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Joel had put the gun down.

Henry did it for him. He’ll do it for you—a repentance.

There’s a sickening sense of anxiety in his stomach as you eat together; it all feels the same. But he refuses to believe it will be.

But Ellie’s taken just fine, the trauma of the last day seemingly washed away. But he knows it lies dormant, just beneath, ready to come bursting free when the moment is unfortunate enough.

He only half listens to your story, takes away the big points—fled the St. Louis QZ, you’re all alone. You’re scared. You hadn’t said that part, but he can feel it. It clouds the air around you, subtle, but there. He knows Ellie can sense it too with that uncanny ability of hers, the way she reads people.

He’s wary, of course, but he can just feel you. That you’re good. And it goes back in forth in his head, that maybe you’re actually good or that he’s simply distracted by how goddamn kind and pretty you are.

We’re going to Wyoming. It feels like they’ve barely known you when Ellie says it, but the statement doesn’t strike the dread in him he’d expected.

Instead, he watches you. The way your shoulders rise at first, a blink, as you process the meaning. The way they fall as a tension seems to leave your body, a belief that maybe you’d finally feel safe.

But before you can respond, he cuts in. “Let’s camp out here for the night.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

He takes first watch, but you don’t fall asleep.

He didn’t expect you to.

Ellie’s curled up near the corner, pack as her pillow, jacket as her blanket. You, however, sit against the wall, knees curled to your chest. It’s surprisingly cold, and he sees the way you shiver.

“She yours?” You finally break the silence, staring ahead at the wall.

He’s immediately reminded of the before—before the world had gone to hell—how the list of conversation topics with strangers always went to kids first once the weather had expired.

“My best friend’s kid,” he lies, fingers twitching on his rifle; he’d never given your gun back, but you seem unperturbed. “Before he…”

“I’m sorry,” you say softly.

He softens slightly at your genuine response to his lie, a fact he remains hidden externally.

“Does she help though?”

“What?”

You turn to look at him, head tiredly following the pane of the wall. “I see the way you treat her. You were someone’s father once.”

He doesn’t think he freezes at that. But he wants to. The words are painfully familiar, utterly agonizing as the memory of Henry and Sam and Sarah all come together with that one statement. He feels it’s written all over him—can people just see it? See how broken he is? You were someone’s father once.

You had someone once.

You loved someone once.

Something’s changed; it’s mutually sensed as you clear your throat, making a clumsy save. “So where’re you from?”

“Austin. You?”

“Chicago.”

It again lapses into silence, only the sound of Ellie’s soft breath, the visible cloud of your own breath in the night air.

He mutters your name, and you turn, eyes widening as he tosses you his jacket. It’s accepted graciously.

He thinks you’ve got a fire in your eyes and a survivor’s mindset, but a small part of him knows—you’re not going to make it out here on your own.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

“Can you stay here till I fall asleep?” Ellie asks quietly.

“Of course.”

She still has trouble sleeping on her own. You don’t blame her. It’d been hard at first, separating in the darkness because, for so long, darkness had been danger. For months, the three of you had always holed up in tiny, found shelters, sometimes with barely there walls, sometimes huddling together for warmth. Always someone keeping watch, someone to protect them.

You all had done the same the first week in Jackson—one room despite the spaciousness of the house. But you’d decided that it was time for Ellie to adjust. She’s a kid, her own space is what she deserves.

You’d helped her redecorate, and it was more fun than you thought it’d be, running around town to find things she liked. You vaguely remember that this is what it’d felt like before the outbreak, when there was time for frivolous things.

She settled well enough—but sometimes you stay, obviously. The lamp stays on as you sit in the chair by her bed, your current read in your lap. She’s undoubtedly too old for this, would probably be fine without it, but you submit, for in all honesty, you yourself are glad you don’t have to sleep alone.

You’re glad that he’s there—protecting you, always. Someone to feel when you think you’re slipping away from reality, struggling too much with the past.

You know she struggles too, but she looks so angelic when she’s sleeping. She certainly wasn’t meant for the life she’d been forced to endure, and the coolness about her since she and Joel had returned occasionally makes your chest tighten.

The nightmares certainly come. On bad nights, you’ll wake up to your mattress shifting, her rolling under the covers on your side of the bed, waking you just enough for you to roll closer to Joel and make room. Maybe it’s a little ridiculous, but it’s what everyone needs.

You remember the first time it’d happened. How you’d woken to her figure just standing in the dark, her hands shaking. Confusion was first inevitably, but you knew the look on her face. “Come here,” you’d whispered, offering her your hand.

You think that’s when you’d finally settled it with yourself—she’s yours.

Her breath growing louder and leveling out brings you out of your head, and per routine, you close your book, switch off the lamp. “Love you, El’.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You grew up on the Great Lakes.

You miss deep dish pizza.

You had a friend you fled with.

Those were some of the things Joel learned as the days dragged on, albeit mostly from you talking with Ellie, not him.

For the first time in his life maybe, Joel learns what it’s like to walk. Truly walk. The days are long, slow. His knees ache. It’s agonizing progress, with a lot of time to pass.

Mostly he listens at first. Ellie’s certainly glad she has someone new to talk to, someone undoubtedly more responsive. She laughs more—which he didn’t even think was possible—and he finds yours is equally bright and clear.

Sometimes he joins, when you and Ellie rope him in, goading him into revealing little things—movies he likes, his favorite food before the outbreak.

He has to admit it’s nice having someone else around, an extra set of eyes to share the responsibility. A part of him hates himself for letting his guard down, but a couple weeks in when he finally lets you take solo watch, he truly rests for the first time in weeks.

“You want some?”

He blinks, startling slightly as you say his name. You’d brought him food, part of a rabbit he’d gotten in the morning. He mutters a thank you, and to his surprise, you sit down next to him. Still, he eats in silence, as you fiddle with your own fingers, slender and delicate, something he focuses on more than he’d like.

“I wanted to say thank you,” you say all of a sudden, casting down your gaze.

“For what?”

“You know what.” You’re hunched over, almost as if you’re ashamed, your throat bobbing as your eyelashes flutter. He wants to rest his hands on you and ease the pain away. “I was looking for…people.”

“‘s alright,” he responds, the usual monotone he forces into his voice. “No one can make it out here on their own.”

You let out a short, bitter laugh that catches him off guard. “I’m sure you could.”

He’s silent for a long time at that, wrestling over what he should say next. The fire crackles quietly in the distance, Ellie’s silhouette resting near it. “No,” he finally admits. “She saved my life, y’know.”

He knows you hear it, with the way your breath hitches. There’s a silent question on your lips, one he’s thankful you don’t ask.

“And I’d rather she not have to do it again.” There’s a sharp edge to it. He himself doesn’t really know what he’s trying to say, but it lingers in the back of his mind—I’ll protect you, but you better protect her.

“You’ve done well, y’know,” you say softly, changing the topic. Still tender, still strong; you’re not intimidated by him.

“What do you mean?”

“I think she’s a good judge of character, I can feel it.” You draw you knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself. “And she likes you.”

Something’s amiss. Something in him feels off when he looks at you and you don’t even spare him a glance back.

“I don’t know where you got her Joel, but I know it wasn’t from your friend. And she had no one before. And she likes you.”

He says your name, but you talk right past him.

“Kids like that can get overly attached, I’m sure you know. But you’re good for her.”

It’s only been three fucking weeks. He likes to think you know nothing, but he knows you’re right. You can see right through him. Just like Ellie in that sense, and it makes something in him alight behind that cold exterior.

But he doesn’t think of you like he thinks of Ellie.

And again, as if you can see through him, the two of you sit in silence—time for his thoughts to simmer, for your pull to grow stronger.

Your jacket’s off, drying after being washed, and you’re just in a tank top, for it’s warmer tonight.

He likes to think of himself as beyond this, but it still piques his interest, the way it hugs your form, leaving little to the imagination, but still leaving plenty for him to imagine.

It’s not the first time, though. You’d always piqued his interest, even before he fully trusted you—hell, maybe since the moment you’d regained your bearings and looked up at him in that dilapidated convenience store.

At first, he thought it was because he hadn’t had someone in so long, that maybe you were just pretty and young and new and practically placed in front of him all the goddamn time, but as more time passes, he doesn’t think it’s just that, he thinks it’s you. So kind with Ellie, so kind with him, soft, but strong, perhaps what he aspires to be on some fundamental level.

And sometimes—like now—he thinks of how soft you’d be, how you’d sound, the way you’d respond to his touch. He imagines how your voice would change, high pitched and girlish, how his name would sound from your lips with a little extra breathiness and—

Fuck, he can’t do this next to you.

He grimaces at the fact that you’re still looking off into the night beside him in the comfortable enough silence, completely innocent in all this.

He blinks, standing with a quiet groan, needing to get away. “I’m gonna go check on Ellie.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You wake with a gasp, startling out of your sleep.

It’s dark, the silence unsettling all of a sudden, the fact a corner lies in shadows making you uneasy.

Your head pounds with a crippling fear, and you sit up, massaging your temples. You have to look to your side to make sure he’s still there, and it feels routine at this point.

The way you compulsively get out of bed to walk down the hall and make sure Ellie’s still there, safe and secure from the world you’d always tried to protect her from. It’s the only thing that keeps you sane when you wake with a chill in your bones.

Back in your room, you climb back under the covers, your heart still pounding in your chest a little faster than normal as you lie on your side and look at the sleeping man next to you.

He only ever seems fully at peace when he’s like this. Your eyes flutter shut—you force them to—as you nestle against him. An arm comes around you, the only indication he’s awake. He doesn’t say anything, just shows his comfort through actions.

You take a deep breath, but you’re still wide awake, too overly conscious of the calm of this situation in this moment, when you’ve just woken from visions of quite the opposite.

It feels ridiculous in your head, but these are nights you want to wake him and whisper, Joel, are we in a dream?

And you just want him to reassure you.

But you never do, content enough to let him sleep, to calm yourself and push through it because that’s what life is like now.

It’s safe, and it’s real.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

There’s a pureness to it as you watch Ellie’s eyes light up, as the sweetness overtakes her tongue.

The three of you had come across a honeysuckle bush by the abandoned house you’re staying in for the night. The bush is the first one you’d seen in years really, and you’d broken a flower open to let her taste the nectar.

It tastes like summer to you, and she savors the sweetness her body has been so deprived of.

“You take off this green part at the end,” you explain, showing her. “Then you pull the little tail thing out. But make sure you’re gentle so you don’t break it.”

She copies you, delightfully tasting another drop from a new flower.

“Tastes like sugar,” she remarks, a bright smile on her face.

You laugh at the contemplative expression on her face. “It is sugar.”

She cocks her head slightly, and picks another flower. “Makes sense.”

“Well, you’ve got claim on the whole bush, El’. Eat up.”

You make the short steps back into the house, where Joel’s standing at the window looking over a map. You can feel his eyes lingering on you.

“She’s definitely gonna pick that bush clean,” you remark, rifling through your pack for something to eat.

Your hands pause as you hear his heavy footsteps behind you. “Well, that’ll keep her preoccupied for a while,” he says quietly, and you gasp as he spins you around, capturing your lips with his.

Your eyes flutter shut, melting into him. It’s been nearly two months now—things have undoubtedly elevated.

It was maybe a few weeks ago when it’d started, when Ellie had been sleeping. Somehow the conversation had turned to the days before, when life was normal, safe. When loved ones were numerous, and sleep came easy.

But Joel had implied something, something that explained the pain in his eyes, and you hadn’t pushed it. You knew it would come later.

But it made something in you twinge, the way his hands shook.

And you’d wanted to make him feel better.

You’d seen the way his gaze tended to linger on you, the way you couldn’t ignore him either. The way pinpricks seemed to run across your skin whenever he touched you. The way both of you would stay a little too long when he offered you a hand when hiking rough terrain.

When you’d kissed him, he pulled away like he’d been burnt, his eyes wide, his guard thoroughly broken for maybe the first time in years.

But he’d returned, forceful, the dominating presence Joel always was, consuming all of you. The moment you let out a quiet moan, you knew you were a goner. Surely, he was too, the way he’d seemed so inherently gentle for once.

And it’s no different now as he wraps his arms around you waist, caging you against the table. It makes you rub your thighs together as his lips move to your neck.

You yelp as he pulls you with him to a room further in the house, lest Ellie decide to come bursting in, and it’s there that the intensity of the moment escalates.

You feel so surrounded by him, smothered by this feeling, and sometimes it’s precious to just forget about everything, to just return to this base need.

There’re no hard and fast rules to this, no defined feelings or commitments, and it’s freeing.

He unbuttons your jeans, slips a hand in, drags his fingers through your slick folds.

You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. His damn voice always gets you; it’s no different now. “Shhh…I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

There’re drying flowers hanging from your windowsill. A small vegetable garden sprouting in the backyard.

It’s the first time you’ve had the opportunity to create a normal, mundane life as an adult, and after everything that’s passed, it feels nice to play homemaker some days.

You already have more than you ever imagined—a growing set of clothes, a collection of plants, even more recently you’d obtained a bottle of flowered hair oil.

Sometime there’s still that doubt though, that anxiety that all this is an illusion that’ll disintegrate at the slightest touch—but at the end of the day, you’re happy.

You think Ellie is too. She goes to school, and she actually likes it. You’d expected it though—she was always so curious. She has acquaintances, friends, and maybe a little crush, but you’re still trying to weed that one out of her.

But that brings you to Joel, and for once, he’s the one that worries you more than Ellie. It seems like he only ever lives in his head some days, unaware of what they have around them. In all honesty, it reminds you of the first days, when you were just strangers, at a tentative injunction of trust.

Some days, it makes you doubt all of this. That maybe this isn’t as great as you see it, that maybe this whole place is a cheap attempt at a remake of before—after all, he’s the one that had truly known the before.

The only days you remember are like an endless summer haze—warm, blissful. You remember sun, fruit, water, friends. You hadn’t yet been old enough for the ordinary world to do you any true harm, and you’d never imagined it could.

But he knew it. He’d had her. And there’s no doubt you haven’t missed the fact of the parallels between now and then for him.

His coldness seems to bleed, to your doubts, to Ellie—or maybe just to you because now you’re really beginning to suspect it’d originated with him and Ellie, when they were gone. There’s an energy about them now that makes you just want to pace in circles till you can forget about it, till maybe you can think everything is normal again.

She’s never the usual chatterbox when he’s around. He less and less seems to express that deep warmth you know he’s more than capable of, and it worries you.

“What’s wrong?”

He jumps as you put your hands on his shoulders. Some days are better, some days are worse. Today is the latter.

He’s bent over a technical book he’d borrowed from the library. “The electrical wiring in the basement.”

You huff, falling onto the couch beside him; Ellie’s gone for the day. “Very funny.”

He doesn’t even turn to you.

“For real, Joel.”

Maybe he just needs someone to get him out of his head.

Maybe he just needs a distraction—there’s always too much time to think here.

“Hey,” you murmur, and when he turns, you surge forward, pulling him into a kiss. It’s a desperate thing filled with one idea. I love you. Please….

He groans into your mouth, pulling you against him, into his lap. This isn’t what you had in mind, but he’s decided. The idea of how he moves you so easily still makes you shiver, and a tremble wracks through your body as he finds that sensitive spot on your neck.

Maybe he just needs to feel better.

You don’t even know anymore, can’t even muster the energy to think of it further, so you submit, letting him pull your shirt off you.

But in one last second of resistance, you pull away, glancing to the side. You hate when he gets like this, so avoidant, turning what you’d intended into something else, and you’ve tried and tried and tried and you just want him to open up and you can’t. You love him and hate him and want him, but it’s difficult to even look him in the eye.

“What’s wrong?” he says, voice strained, slightly grinding up against you where you straddle him.

You know damn well what’s wrong, you want to say. But instead you shake your head. Forget about it.

You climb off his lap, and his objection turns into a groan as you drop to your knees, undoing his belt.

Maybe he just needs to feel better.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Your jaw drops the first time you see Jackson.

It feels unreal, like one of those cute Western towns you used to ski at with your family as a child.

You go about it in a haze, in awe, but anxious. There’s more people than the three of you have seen in months—strangers, and your eyes dart around as you walk.

You’d met Tommy, Maria, already scolded Ellie once or twice for her language.

But the house they give you hits you the most. One of those standard suburban homes that feels too familiar to you. Too homely, for it reminds you of everything that’s been lost. You think Joel feels the same, the way he’d paused in the doorway, just for a split second before continuing.

There’s marks of someone else’s life in here. You wonder what happened to them.

That evening, you sit on the bed as the sound of the shower runs in the background. Your hair is still wet, and a lamp illuminates the room in a soft glow. The sheets are so soft, and it’s warm for once.

It’s too much to process, like the old world has just been forcefully shocked from your system, and somehow you weren’t ready for everything to be okay all of a sudden, and you don’t know why exactly, but you draw your knees to your chest and tremble.

It’s agonizing, this reminder. That maybe this is what could’ve been all along if the world hadn’t gone to shit. That maybe you’d still be on the water, that you’d have a family, that maybe you’d see your parents every weekend.

You take in deep shuddering breaths, forcing yourself to calm as the door to the bathroom opens. You hear him pause before a weight sinks onto the bed beside you. He pulls you into his arms.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he murmurs.

You exhale, resting against him. He’s so warm. “It’s just a lot.”

That’s all he’s going to get, and apparently he decides he’s fine with that. “I know.”

The silence is eerie as he leans against the headboard, your head on his shoulder. You can feel his heart beating in his chest as you stare at a framed picture on the wall—a wedding photo of two strangers from another life.

“Did you tell her yet?” you ask quietly.

He tenses. “No.”

When he’d told you his decision to have Tommy take Ellie, you didn’t know what to say. You already knew it was a lot for him to process, that he didn’t take it lightly—he’d already walked in with his shoulders hunched, a broken look in his eyes.

Your first instinct had been an objection—you don’t really agree with his reasons, but at the end of the day, you decide to respect what he wants.

“You should tell her now,” you say quietly. A small part of you knows that you should go too, that she was no longer just Joel’s, but your fear wins over the selfishness in you.

He nods, gently lowering you to the mattress. The door closes as he steps out.

You inhale the scent of freshly washed sheets, and try to think of anything else. If you dwell on it, you think you’ll go yank Joel from Ellie’s room and beg him to change his mind. She was both of yours after all, she stays with the two of you.

Except she’s really not, and the reality stings.

But you perk up, propping yourself up on your elbows as you hear yelling. They’re fighting.

Joel’s voice, even muffled through walls, sends a shiver down your spine. Then a shrieking slew of words from Ellie that you can’t quite pick out.

And you startle as a door slams.

Joel bursts into the bedroom, and your eyes widen as his gaze settles on you, and for a split second, you think you sense something dangerous.

“Did you fuckin’ tell her about Sarah?” His voice is shaking, barely controlled from a yell, and it scares you, and you’d never seen him this mad.

“What? Of course not,” you insist, fully sitting up and crossing your arms in some sad attempt at self-comfort.

“Then how the fuck did she find out?”

You know he has a hard time with her, exponentially harder than he has with you. He’d never lost someone like you, but he’d definitely lost someone so completely like Ellie.

The question goes unanswered, and he fumes, sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

You rest on your knees, moving slowly, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Joel…” you whisper.

He mutters something under his breath and shakes his head. “It’s done.”

And you watch helplessly as he turns off the lamp and climbs under the covers. Conversation over.

He lies on his side with his back turned to you, and you stare at the door for a moment. You want to go to her, hold her, but it’s done. It’s over. There’s no use in rubbing salt in the wound.

So you lie down too, tentatively sliding closer to Joel, and you wrap an arm around his waist. The fact that he doesn’t push you away is what tells you it’s welcome. It’s so small, so small it could be mistaken, but you think he trembles.

And you slide a hand up his body, past his neck, to his cheek. You find the wetness you’d been suspecting, and tenderly, you wipe the tear away.

You don’t say anything, he doesn’t want you to.

You just go to sleep.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

“I did the wrong thing.”

You groggily rub your eyes. It’s six in the morning, the sun is beginning to rise. He lays wide awake beside you.

His dread seems to roll over the whole room. “Maybe,” you whisper.

“She’s scared,” he says.

“I think she’s always been scared.”

He makes a noise somewhat evocative of pain as he sits up, massaging his temples.

“I can’t…” he bites out.

“Can’t what?”

“She wants it to be me—us, actually.”

“Of course she does.” You sit up too, resting a hand on his back.

You have a lot of thoughts running through your mind, but in some terrible avoidance, you cling to the idea that this is his choice. They’d started this whole thing, they finish this whole thing.

His hand twitches. “Fuck it,” he mumbles, getting out of bed, and tossing his pack on the dresser, his choice obviously made.

It feels right.

“When are we leaving?” you ask quietly, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed.

“You’re staying.”

You freeze, your back still turned to him as you process his words, wondering if you’d heard him right. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says. “You’re staying here.”

“What the fuck do you mean I’m staying here?” You jump to your feet, glaring at him.

“It’s two weeks,” he insists. “Easy and quick.”

“Then why the fuck can I not come?”

“‘cause it ain’t safe.”

“But you just said—“

“Stop it,” he interjects, uttering your name with something menacing to it. A warning.

“Joel,” you plead, walking over to him, where he stands his ground.

“You’re safer here,” he says, softening slightly as he forces himself to take a breath. “Shit happens out there; I’d rather at least one of you be safe.”

“But—“

“Please.” He firmly cradles your face in his hands. His gaze on you is unwavering. You couldn’t break away if you wanted to. “I’ve never asked you for anything,” he begs, “and I’m asking you for something right now.”

You tremble, staring at him. He’s waiting for you to say something.

And finally, you swallow and nod, a pang in your chest at the thought of being left behind. “Okay.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Two weeks pass in a haze.

Day fifteen is anxiety-filled. Day sixteen is excruciating.

You can’t be alone. Again.

So you throw yourself into work to forget. You work in the gardens by day, clean the large house by night. You sweep the floors, clean up twenty years worth of dust, erase the remnants of the last occupants.

The night scares you, alone in the big house, and many are sleepless as you toss and turn, ultimately sitting downstairs till you fall asleep on the couch.

Tommy sends people out after about two and a half weeks. Nothing.

Just be patient.

“Please…” you whisper some nights. You don’t know if you’re talking to yourself, or them, or someone above.

The fear is debilitating, makes your head pound some days. On the third week mark, you give in for the first time and cry. In bed, your face buried in the pillows as you sob. You’d never let them see you like this, so shouldn’t you stop?

You can’t.

If Ellie comes back, you decide you’re going to tell her she’s yours, that she always will be. You’ll tell Joel you love him

You can’t lose another family.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Cordyceps grows in the brain.

He feels like he wants to hurl as he stares at the tile floor.

“Take him out to the highway. Leave him with his pack.”

Her. All that matters is her.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You’re done.

You can’t stand it anymore. You feel like you’re either going to scream or burst into tears.

There’s a tenseness going around the house today, not just a coldness.

They’d fought yesterday—Ellie and Joel—she’d said something rude, he’d yelled something about ‘showing a little goddamn respect.’

Everyone seems on edge, including you, and you know one thing for sure—this isn’t the family you’d found on the road.

You feel alone, stuck between some conflict no one will tell you of, and it’s slowly breaking you. Utopia gives too much time to think, and the well-functioning community around you drives you insane, for the situation at home is quite the opposite.

And Ellie also refuses to tell you anything—sometime it kills you how similar they are in some ways, and you can’t even count how many times you asked Joel about it.

This must be the millionth, as you stand before him, in the foyer for some reason, where this had all started.

He looks tired, and for a second, you think he’s going to walk out the door, leave you hanging. Again.

“You’re gonna tell me right now what happened,” you say, voice dangerously low. There’s a dish towel still in your hand, some mundane kitchen cleanup turned tense, one last avoidant flight before it could be avoided no longer.

He’s done pretending. “Leave it,” he hisses, turning around to walk off into the depths of the house.

You lunge out, grabbing his wrist. “Joel!”

He stops, still a modicum of respect left, roughly jerking your grip off of him. You stare back at him, a heat rising to the back of your eyes. He can be so cold.

“I deserve to know,” you bite out, your voice shaking.

“Will you just listen to what I tell you for once in your goddamn life?” he says, voice just a little too loud to be considered a normal volume.

Your eyes widen, fingers twisting painfully into the fabric in your hand as you shake your head. “All I’ve ever done is listen to you since you got back. And I’ve been waiting, Joel. I’ve been fucking waiting.”

Tears poke at your eyes, and he opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t let it escape.

“I don’t know if you really realize this, but you’re my partner and she’s ours. I don’t know why we keep pretending we’re not, but that’s the fucking truth, and whatever the hell is going on between the two of you needs to include me.”

He falters, lip parting before closing again. He rests a hand on the railing of the stairs, like he’s having trouble keeping himself up, like the weight on his shoulders has just increased tenfold. “You don’t want to know,” he says quietly.

“You can’t keep this from me,” you exclaim, voice cracking. “You can’t keep this from me after you left me.”

His head snaps up at that. “I didn’t leave you—“

“Yes, you did, you fucking left me, Joel!” you exclaim, tears finally falling. You fall quiet, finally aware of how much pent up anger you have left over, how scared you’d been.

You grab onto the banister, burying your head in your hands. You become acutely aware of his nearer presence, as he wraps his arms around you, leading you to the couch.

“You can’t leave me and then not tell me what happened,” you say quietly into his chest.

He exhales, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry, sweet girl,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I can’t stand it like this,” you gasp, shaking your head.

“I know, sweet girl. I know,” he murmurs, wiping your tears away. “Don’t cry,” he mutters, hardly audible, his face twisted in something like pain.

It’s silent for a few moments, his chest rising and falling in something intense.

And then he tells you.

Cordyceyps grows in the brain.

I couldn’t let them.

“I killed them all,” he whispers. But his voice remains unwavering. You don’t think he regrets it. “I don’t know what happened…I just couldn’t let them.”

You let out a shuddering breath. You don’t want to even ask the number—twenty? Thirty?

“And then…then Marlene—she said Ellie would’ve wanted it…but I killed her too.”

Joel looks out the window instead of at you, into the street where people walk, completely oblivious to what had happened.

“And then, I lied to Ellie, told her they’d given up, that I’d rescued her from raiders attacking.”

It comes together as he continues, his hand grasping yours as you trace circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

“And I keep sayin’ to myself there’s no way she would’ve wanted that, and I keep sayin’ I would’ve respected her choice if she did, but I would’ve done the same. I would’ve done the same fuckin’ thing a million times over. I couldn’t let that happen to her—she’s just a kid.”

He hasn’t cried since the night before he and Ellie had left, and that had been in darkness. It’s light now, and he tries to hide. But it’s too much, the pull of the conflict on him, your still remaining tear streaks.

“And she knows you lied,” you say plainly, a confirmation.

He nods. “I know she fuckin’ knows.”

He turns, looking straight at you, and the fear in his eyes makes you swallow. It’s so foreign. Joel is never afraid.

“What if she hates me forever?” he asks, voice cracking on the last syllable.

You shake your head, a silent reassurance. It’s your turn to pull him against you. “She won’t.”

You don’t think Joel has ever let you hold him, ever let you treat him with the tenderness he deserves.

“You did the right thing, Joel,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hair.

Other considerations don’t even occur to you because this is right. It’s right to you because she’s yours—and no one takes what’s yours. No one hurts what’s yours—not even some stupid delusion of guilt, and you hold him as if you can soothe the pain away.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, in silence, against each other. At some point, he falls asleep, his head in your lap, a much needed rest.

You stare out the window, only the sound of his breath in the background. It’s green outside. Beautiful.

The sound of the doorknob turning brings your attention, Ellie walking in.

She looks at you, then Joel, that coldness developing in her eyes with the latter.

“Ellie,” you say as she’s about to dart up the stairs.

She freezes. “Yeah?”

“Let’s talk tonight.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

They return to you a month later.

Haggard, tired, lacking one less horse than they’d left with.

He wants to sob the first time he sees you again. But he doesn’t. Lets you do it for the both of them instead as you collapse in his arms, as he reassures you, as a million words rush out of your mouth, the flow of anxiety that had accumulated over the weeks. Your other arm is tightly around Ellie. “We’re okay, baby,” he murmurs. “We’re okay.”

He just wants to forget this first day back, for when he’s not in Ellie’s presence, he lets go, let’s that doubt creep in just the tiniest bit.

You’d revitalized the house, started a garden out back, and it feels like years had passed while they were out there. All except with you.

When night comes, he wants to drown in your presence, drown in your eyes, feel you, remember what home is like again—it requires three of you, together in one place.

The picture of the month he puts together for you is jumbled, vague—he doesn’t know what Ellie tells you, but you’d sat with her in her room for a while. There’s already an underlying sense of change, and he’d rather focus on the things that remained.

You. Only you, in his arms.

The bedroom’s been repainted, the curtains new. You’d rearranged too, the bed and dresser moved around. But now there’re undoubtedly signs of you—there’s clothes in the drawers, a bouquet of flowers on the side table, a bottle of perfume in the bathroom that he remembers smelling on you.

“Do you like the room?”

He turns from where he’d already been looking at one of the dresser drawer tracks that stuck.

“Of course,” he replies, throwing his jacket into the hamper. It’s dark out already, that same lamp illuminating the room, but it’s warmer now, the lightbulb changed.

“Go shower,” you tell him, a small smile twitching at your lips. “Then come to bed.”

He savors the hot water, but doesn’t take too long. He doesn’t know if you were really insinuating what he thought you were, but he hadn’t asked—he supposed he was fine with the surprise.

He’d said he wanted to drown in you, and it’s as if you can read his mind when you push him back, into the freshly changed sheets.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, your body resting on his. The admittance is not the first, but one of few, and he takes it in equally, murmuring it back.

He wastes no time in getting your clothes off, taking a second to admire, for you’ve gained some much needed weight, the dip in your waist and the curve of your hips much more pronounced.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs against your skin, almost chasing you as you pull away to unbutton his softer flannel sleep shirt—he decides it was a waste of time putting it on in the first place.

Honestly, he’d barely looked in the mirror, so he forgets. He’s only reminded when you freeze, your eyes dead set on the gnarly scar in his lower right abdomen.

He shakes his head, meets your eyes, pleading with you. Don’t.

But—

Please.

And you oblige, dipping down to press a chaste kiss to the scar tissue.

“Come back.” He pulls you back up towards him, his hands wandering. You’re so soft, both your body and the way you seem to mould to him. Too delicate for him, too precious, but still, all he wants is you.

You giggle at his groan when you slip your hand past the waistband of his boxers; the corners of his lips twitch at the bright sound that leaves you lips.

But it turns to a gasp as your grip tightens, his body tensing in anticipation.

“Relax, baby,” you whisper.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

She’s lying on the bed when you come in, on her stomach, a comic clutched in her hands.

She scowls when she sees you, but there’s that apprehension hiding behind those doe eyes of hers.

“You’re not in trouble,” you assure her as you sit down in your usual chair near her bed.

“I don’t give a fuck if I’m in trouble,” she bites out, sitting up cross legged.

“Sure,” you merely reply. Her scowl seems to deepen further at your nonchalant response—you’re not Joel, she’s never gotten a rise out of you.

You shift uncomfortably, for the room feels stifling despite the open window. The tension in your shoulders betrays your reasoning for waiting till night.

You take a deep breath, your palms flat on your lap. “Do you know what happened?”

She stays silent for a long moment. “Let me guess…it was for my own good, you’re gonna say.”

You flinch at that biting tone, letting out a sigh. You push her to the side as you instead sit on the bed beside her. “El’…,” you warn, looking her dead in the eye. She subtly gulps. She’s not used to this intensity from you. “Do you know what happened?”

“I know he lied,” she says, looking down. “I know it.”

She was always softer with you than with Joel, meeting you where you were at. You think it’s where she really wants to be.

“I remember…falling asleep, but they never told me anything.” Her voice shakes as she implies the thoughts that have been running through her head for so long.

A cool breeze blows in through the open window.

“But he fucking lied to me,” she says quietly. “Why? We’d gone so far. I…I could’ve fixed everything.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, your chest twisting painfully.

“Ellie….” You reach a hand out, tilting her chin up to make her look at you. “Sometimes we do things that….” You pause, struggling to find the words. “Sometimes we do things for each other that we don’t—“

“Mean? Mean to do? Things we don’t mean to be selfish?” Her interjection startles you, those doe eyes of hers suddenly seeming so dark.

You let out a quiet groan, massaging your forehead. But she’s not done.

“So you’re taking his side? I—“

“There’re no fucking sides here, Ellie!” you exclaim. She falls quiet.

When you take her hand in yours, you can feel the slight shake.

“Look, I don’t know if what he did was right,” you say softly. “No one here is expecting you to pretend everything is okay and no one’s expecting you to believe everything will be fine, but I just need you to understand….”

She just stares at you, a silent command to keep going.

“I’m sorry, El’.” You wipe away a stray tear with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry for everything, but at the end of the day, what matters is that you’re here. I know you don’t want to hear this, but I…I would’ve done the same.”

She deflates slightly at that. You don’t know how to interpret it.

“You know why?” you ask.

She pauses. “Why?” she finally croaks out.

“Because that’s what parents do.”

She shakes, her own tears falling, freezing up as if already worrying she’d heard it wrong.

“He told me what you said, y’know. That you had to do this, after everything you’ve been through and done. And…and I know you’ve never had anyone, El’. But I promise,”—your grip on her hand tightens—“you do now. And I want you to know that your life is worth more than some bullshit cure that probably wouldn’t have even worked.”

She’s stone still, the only movement her chest rising and falling with some unspoken urgency. And it takes you by surprise when she lunges forward, throwing her arms around you. It’s so unlike her, but the shock becomes irrelevant when you begin to feel her trembles, something twisting painfully at her reaction—the strength of which is a testament to how alone she’s always been.

“I love you, El’,” you whisper. “We love you. I hope you know that.”

Her face is buried in the crook of your neck, as your eyes fall to the doorway. You’d sensed his presence, somewhere between your insistent words, and he leans against the frame. You meet his eye, and he lingers, eyes on the two of you. There’s an inexplicable warmth to him.

“Joel.” You call him to attention, gesturing at the chair near the bed.

She jerks away at the realization, eyeing him warily. You keep an arm around her shoulders, easing away the tension.

He settles, that gaze of his always unwavering, intense.

“Ellie,” he says quietly.

She slowly leans into you, wiping her eyes. You give her side a small squeeze, a reassurance.

His eyes flutter for a moment, hands clasped tightly together. “I’m sorry,” he finally says, and for the first time, he looks away, head bowed in something like shame. “I couldn’t let them.” A direct mirror to what he’d told you earlier.

She seems as if she doesn’t know how to react, her head just laying on your shoulder. She looks tired; you’ll have to insist she go straight to bed after.

“And I’m sorry for lying,” he continues, fingers twisting together. “I keep looking for a reason, but I just…I couldn’t lose you. I just couldn’t….”

There’s a frustration to it, a struggle to convey what he means exactly. He makes the same switch as you—sitting on her other side, bridging the divide.

“We’re safe here, Ellie.”

You drop your hand down from her shoulder, grasping his.

“You deserve to know life like this.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

He’ll never get tired of that laugh of hers.

It’s maybe the brightest thing he’s heard in twenty years.

Some days he feels like he’s drowning in white, drowning in this purity. White sheets, white clouds, white-capped mountains—clean, beautiful. And he lets go. It’s a self-forced surrender, a difficult thing he thinks he’s finally overcoming.

“Here.” He kneels to the ground, pulling out a small switchblade to cut Ellie a small branch of blackberries. She still has some in her mouth, that bright smile of hers. It’s the first time she’s ever had them.

The adjustment can be harsh some days, shocking. But things improve, the normalcy, the slow mend of tensions—it certainly helps that you seem to take to this better than him.

“Don’t go through the whole bush, El’,” you call out, weeding the garden on the other side of the yard, a white-flowered honeysuckle bush to your right that Ellie equally adores. “You’re gonna give yourself a stomachache.”

A smile tugs at his lips as he watches her roll her eyes slightly. “Yes, mom.”

It’s in that usual sarcastic Ellie manner, but he swears he sees your nimble fingers pause for a moment before you continue your work. It makes him pause too.

“Better listen to her, kid.”

She nods, only snatching the switchblade from his hand to cut another small segment. He shakes his head, barely restraining a small chuckle as he walks nearer to you, sitting on the small garden bench you’d recently acquired, watching Ellie from a distance now.

“She’s getting better,” you say, softly enough that she can’t hear.

He only swallows and nods. For him, at least, some days it’s better, others the guilt is overwhelming, a deluge of thoughts that he can’t quite shake. She reminds him so much of someone else undoubtedly, and deep down, the thought of how he’d hurt her is agonizing. She’s so young, has so much right to be untouched by this world.

“Hey…” you say softly, bringing him back to the moment, where you’d come to sit beside him. “What is it?” He instinctively leans into your hand on his cheek.

He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. “Nothing, I just….” His voice trails off.

“I know,” you merely answer, resting your head on his shoulder. It’s one of those lazy summer days, a little too warm to run around town, just right to simply bask in the sun.

It’s all you and her—it’s why he wants to stay. Stay here. Stay out of his head. Stay present in this world that’s not completely broken yet. One to bring him back, one to solidify it. He doesn’t know what he’d do without both of you.

He remembers clearly the words you’d whispered a few nights ago, in bed, in darkness. The night of his apology to Ellie, her cold reaction. Not one for poetics, he still remembers, the feel of your hand curled around his wrist, the subtle disturbance of your breath, your words that will forever stick with him.

“We’re here now, Joel. We’re safe.”

He remembers his own breathing sounding labored almost, the way his hand curled around the back of your neck had gently tightened.

“I know you’re not used to this, but this is the only thing left, Joel, and then we’re on the other side.” You’d leaned forward, a small, chaste kiss. “Only love can save us now.”

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

Taglist: @dark-academics-and-florals, @theultimateslashgirl @princessxkenobi @djjarins @jitterbugs927 @whoviayanesha @iamskyereads @dessinemoiunehistoire @damerondala @laura-naruto-fan1998 @something-tofightfor @mandosmistress @hoodedbirdie @ginger-swag-rapunzel

A/N: This is the longest thing I’ve ever written (by far!), and honestly, I really love it. I haven’t written in a while, so I’m a little nervous, but this has been brewing in my mind since the finale aired—I really hope you guys enjoyed. Thanks for reading 💕

Masterlist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #the last of us show #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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yanphobia · 2 months

Text

Athazagoraphobia - Chapter 6

Athazagoraphobia: The fear of forgetting, and being forgotten.

Pairing: Yandere Male Merman OC x Reader

Warnings (for the entire story): Yandere, Horror, Graphic Discriptions of Injury and Death, The Ocean, Body Horror, NonCon Touching, Dubcon, Female Reader, Extreme Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Chapter 5 Index Chapter 7

Author's Note: this muse is impossible, i've rewritten this way too many times 😭 @creepysweetie @my2phetaliaheadcanons @smolnuggie911. @spicylove4ever @acaribeau @mel-vaz

For the next few days, the colony of merfolk consumed your every thought. You dedicated countless hours to studying them, clumsily maneuvering through the water to get as close as possible without being noticed. They spoke in a melodious language that echoed through the currents, a symphony of sounds that both intrigued and frustrated you. Several times, out of sheer curiosity, you approached Lotan, hoping he would teach you a few phrases. Each time, however, he deflected your request with a mixture of reluctance and dismissiveness.

"No, my love," Lotan would say, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. "You're not ready for their language yet. I can translate for you, and show you how to hunt instead, what prey to pursue."

His insistence puzzled you. Why was he so unwilling to share this fundamental part of his world? Hadn't he eagerly guided you in every other aspect of mermaid life? You couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling you—a hidden truth beneath his placid surface… Your unease only deepened from there.

Despite Lotan's attempts to distract you, your fascination with the merfolk only grew stronger. They really were strange creatures - you’ll never be able to look at their more human halves without seeing waterlogged corpses - but the way they moved through the water was undeniably elegant. Beautiful, even.They moved through the water with effortless grace, their tails swaying in rhythm with the currents, a stark contrast to the clumsy, unwieldy form you now inhabited in comparison.

Your observations were accompanied by a mounting sense of dread. The colony’s matriarchal society was evident—the larger, more powerful females presiding over the smaller males, commanding respect and taking their fill of food first. The dynamics you observed confirmed that the females held authority over the less dominant position of the males. But it was odd - Lotan, you had noticed, was much smaller than the other males. Scrawny, one could say. You hated to look at him, but the bone structure in his face was much less defined, his muscles much more subtle, his hair even was kept short in comparison to the others. These realizations only heightened your apprehension, as the societal structure seemed both alien and intimidating.

Lotan's discomfort with your burgeoning interest was palpable. Whenever you expressed curiosity about the colony, he would subtly redirect the conversation, his passive-aggressive remarks hinting at his disdain for their ways.

"You needn't concern yourself with them," Lotan insisted one evening, his tone edged with bitterness. "Once we reintroduce ourselves, they'll see our worth. Right now they're too traditional, stuck in their ways. They won’t know how to properly respect us."

His words struck a nerve. "But Lotan," you protested, bewildered by his sudden hostility, "aren't we learning their ways to join them? To be accepted among them?"

Lotan scoffed, a forced laugh escaping him. "Accept - no, we don’t want to be accepted by them! The mermaids, they're troublesome - all too high-strung, and too domineering. The mermen are worse… they’ll only ever mistreat you. They'll never accept us as equals. But the two of us… we’re going to show them the future of our kind!"

That… was incredibly strange to you. You couldn’t help but feel as though you had been dropped into a horrible situation - well, one that was worse from the one that you were currently in. But you had to remain optimistic - this was only strengthening your resolve to escape.

—

One mermaid in particular had caught your eye. She was a softer presence amidst the more imposing figures around her, interacting with her young in a manner that spoke of genuine care. Her gentleness stood out in a society where dominance was often displayed with harshness. Watching her, you felt a pang of longing, a deep-seated yearning for the familiar comforts of your past life.

As you observed her nurturing behavior, the memories of your own mother surfaced, vivid and poignant. You remembered the long nights spent huddled together in the small apartment you once called home. She was undeniably a flawed woman, but despite the frequent arguments and instability, there was a profound, undeniable love between you—a love that had been a source of both comfort and pain. The realization of how much you missed her, despite everything, hit you with an overwhelming force.

The contrast between your current life and those memories was jarring. Your new form, so different from the human body you had once inhabited, felt like a constant mockery of your past. Each glance at your reflection in the water brought a shudder of disgust. The once-familiar shape was now misshapen and alien, a grotesque reminder of the life you had lost.

In the dim, cool light of the underwater world, the weight of your homesickness and the revulsion towards your current situation were almost unbearable. The simple act of remembering your mother, of longing for the warmth and security of your past, only intensified the bleakness of your situation. You felt trapped between two worlds, neither fully belonging to the one you had known nor fully integrated into the strange, cold reality you now faced.

As you prepared to leave the safety of the shadows and approach her, the uncertainty of your situation loomed large. The risk of drawing unwanted attention or provoking hostility from the other merfolk added a layer of tension to your already fraught emotions. Each movement, each breath, felt fraught with potential peril, and the fear of the unknown made your heart race with a mix of dread and hope.

But you had to try. You were never meant to be trapped down here, living like an animal at the mercy of some crazed beast who had kidnapped and distorted you. You knew it in your soul.

You knew that she knew it, too.

#yandere #athazagoraphobia #yandere writing #terato x reader #writing blog #yandere merman x reader #yandere merman #merman oc x reader #terato #yandere stories #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x darling

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ripleyresonance · 4 months

Text

Out of my Control

Rhea Ripley x OC

Leah has always had her life together and is always in control. But when she meets Rhea Ripley maybe letting go sometimes isn't so bad after all.

Word count: 5936

Warnings: Cursing, Spanking, Gagging, Spit, Countdown, A little bit of angst.

Leah had a very particular routine. Every morning she would wake up at 5:00 am sharp. From 5 to 5:15 she would open the New York Times on her phone and catch up on current events. After that, she would take a shower. Cold, of course, to wake her up a bit more. She would make an English muffin lightly toasted with butter and a glass of cold brew with a splash of her favorite oat milk-based creamer. She was out the door to go to work at 7:00 to arrive at the office by 8:00.

People at work respected her. Everyone would acknowledge her and wish her a good morning or afternoon when she walked by. She always was the best dressed and everything at her desk was arranged to make her work day more efficient. Needless to say, she was in control. And she loved it that way. But in her romantic life, she wanted the opposite. She wanted to let go and have someone else make her decisions. She wanted them to pick the restaurant. Pick the time – hell, sometimes she’d even love for them to pick what she would wear. And a few months ago she found just that.

“Come on Leah, you have to come out with us.” Her friend Tiffany groaned, putting her head in Leah's lap.

“Yeah Leah, I feel like if we left you alone on another Friday night your vagina might shrivel up and fall off.” Her other friend Bri chimed in.

Bri, Leah, and Tiffany were all roommates freshman year of college and could not have been more different. Believe it or not, Leah had even been more uptight back then. She refused to hang out with them, dedicating all of her time to her studies. But one terrifying night they thought someone was breaking into their apartment.

They all hid in Bri’s room with a baseball bat until they found out it was just a raccoon who had found out how to kick open the door. Ever since that night, the girls were pretty much inseparable.

“I reallyyy don’t though. Don't you normally go to ‘The Keg’ I mean could they have come up with any better of a name?” Leah groaned pushing past Tiffany to stand up from the coach to go refill her currently empty wine glass.

“Um yeah, the bartender thinks I’m hot so we normally get free drinks,” Tiffany said, propping herself up on her elbow.

“You literally work in accounting…I know what you make, you can afford drinks.” Leah said.

“She definitely can but that does not mean she has to…also you’re deflecting! Cmon we can't let you stay in on a Friday night for the hundredth time in a row. Bri said, coming to the counter behind Leah.

“But I love my Friday night routine. Wine, my favorite snacks, my favorite shows and! My bed. You cannot find those at a bar.” Leah said.

Tiffany rested her chin on Leah’s shoulder.

“That’s the most depressing thing I have ever heard…you sound like you are eighty years old.”

“Or a depressed housewife,” Bri said.

“I’ve always been told I have an old soul,” Leah said, shaking her arm like an old lady, making them both laugh.

Tiffany moved around her jumping up to sit on the counter facing Leah.

“I’m just worried about you Leah….ever since Krista broke up with you–” Tiffany started.

“Ah ah. No Krista talk, you promised.” Leah frowned.

“And we promise we will stop feeling bad for you and not drag you out for the next six months if you just come out with us tonight,” Bri said, moving Leah's hair behind her ear.

Leah looked at both of the friends dreading her reaction. It was like all critical thoughts left her head regarding them. This is exactly what happened way too many nights in college and it always ended up with Leah picking one of them off the bathroom floor.

“UGHHHHHHH. Fine but only two drinks.” Leah said.

Tiffany and Bri squealed and jumped off the counter hugging her. “I knew you would cave! We are going to have so much fun, just like old times. BLT hitting the town again!” Tiffany said as Leah and Bri rolled their eyes.

“Girl even I might stay in if you use that awful nickname again” Bri said.

“Yeah Tif, I think that died the night after you were talking to that girl who offered you a sandwich on the sidewalk.” Leah shuddered at the memory.

“Yeah, some questionable choices were made that night.” Tiffany agreed.

“Anyway go shave…whatever your situation is down there and put on something CUTE not one of your business casual shirts,” Bri remarked.

“Yeah between the business casual attire and the ice queen attitude you give to any stranger that approaches us, you are kind of scaring the hoes,” Tiffany said.

“Nope, no guys I am serious. No girls tonight, just us. I’m not looking for another subpar one night stand with some girl named ‘Angel’ who won't call me back.” Leah said.

“A girl sets you up on one bad date and I never hear the end of it,” Bri said, making them all laugh.

Leah had had enough drama with Krista and everyone felt bad for her. If she had to go out, she at least wanted to spend time with her best friends.

“Okay fineeeeee I promise. It’s just us.” Tiffany said, extending her pinky.

“Just us.” Bri agreed putting her pinky in the mix.

“Always.” Leah smiled, sealing the deal.

Pinky promises used to mean something back in elementary school but apparently, all that went out the window as the girls had barely finished one drink and Leah went to the bathroom and came back to Tiffany with her tongue down some woman’s throat.

Leah rolled her eyes, sitting back down next to Bri.

“Damn, I thought she might make it to drink two before she ditched us. Leah said

“C'mon you know as well as me telling her she can't do something is going to make her do it that much faster,” Bri said taking a sip of her drink.

Leah sighed, thinking of how she was going to get Tiffany out of there until Bri choked on her drink.

“Woah who is THAT,” Bri said nodding past Leah.

Leah turned her head, looking at the seats further down the bar to see two women who looked impressively fit. One had long brown hair about mid-way down her back. She had on a classic pair of blue jeans and a strapless top which emphasised how impressive her back muscles were. But the other woman was who caught Leah’s attention.

She had jet-black hair in a wolfcut style. She had a few nose piercings and an eyebrow slit – immediately setting off Leah’s fuck-girl radar.

“Ah ah no that one is bad news.” Leah shook her head turning back to Bri.

“Omg so quick to judge! What makes you say that?” Bri replied.

“Um hello?? The piercings? The eyebrow slit? The tattoos? She is like the poster child for bad decisions.” Leah said, shaking her head.

“Well, what if I wanted to make some bad decisions? Bri said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Then I would tell you to DM Jenna again, not find a new problem. I know exactly what her type is and trust me you want nothing to do with Miss Wolf Cut over there.” Leah said, sipping her drink.

“Damn, it seems like I already made a bad impression then?” Leah heard a voice from behind her.

Both Leah and Bri choked on their drink, turning around to face the woman and her friend.

“Pretty arrogant of you to assume we were talking about you,” Leah said coldly, making Bri and the woman's friend make a face.

“Arrogant or observant?” The stranger raised an eyebrow.

“Anyway me and my friend were just about to leave so excuse us,” Leah said, turning around to flag the bartender.

Leah heard the woman's friend mumble something back to her along the lines of, “Let's go sit down again” but the woman ignored her.

When the bartender returned to the group, Leah could barely get a word in before the woman with the wolf cut spoke up again.

“I'll do another whisky sour and the lady will take…a cosmo” She smirked, eyeing Leah’s glass. Leah went to protest but the bartender went straight to work.

Leah turned to complain to Bri as she saw her now chatting up the brunette with the long hair.

She sighed, accepting defeat as the woman with the tattoos sat in the barstool next to her.

“So how often do you do this? Go to some shitty dive bar and try and pick up your next victim.”

“Victim?” the woman laughed “You think I am that type?”

“I don't think so, I know so,” Leah replied shortly.

“And why is that sweetheart?” The woman asked as the bartender passed her her new drink.

“Because I’ve fallen for women like you before. You exude this confidence you walk around like anyone should be honored to have the pleasure of sleeping with you.” Leah explained.

“So you admit it, I am your type.” The woman smirked, causing Leah to roll her eyes.

The stranger laughs, finishing her drink and slamming it onto the bar.

“Well miss….” The stranger paused waiting for her name.

“Leah,”She offered.

“Well miss Leah I'll get out of your business but I…hope we run into each other again. I don’t think this was the only time we are meant to meet.” She winked at Leah before getting up, placing money on the bar, and grabbing her friend to head out.

After they left Bri scooted over to Leah again.

“So you got her number right?!” Bri said excitedly.

“In her dreams,” Leah said, taking the last swig of her drink.

------------------------------

By the time April came around Leah was as busy as ever. Work really picked up and she had been running around the city like a chicken with its head cut off. Event planning was no joke. The clients could be demanding and annoying but hey – at least Leah was getting paid.

This particular day was not going her way though. She had slept through her 5 am alarm so she had to do her morning routine in twenty minutes. Once she was in the office, one of the interns spilled coffee on her. The rest of the day was meetings and clients yelling over the phone followed by more meetings. By the time Leah had put out all the fires it was pushing 9pm. She sighed as she turned off the light in her office and headed for her car.

She turned on the meditations that she did not get to practice this morning and started her commute home. It was only about 25 minutes, Garnet Valley was a small town but cutting through downtown could save Leah about five minutes and based on the downpour she would take all the time off she could get. Leah gripped the wheel tight leaning forward to see through her windshield wipers. The more it rained the louder she tuned up her mediation…which was the reason she did not hear her check engine light go off.

She continued at a slow pace until the car jerked, alarming her. She turned down her meditation a bit, finally hearing the light beep on the indicator.

“No no no” Leah started whispering to herself as her car jerked again.

She was just on the edge of downtown as she pulled over the car, making sure to jerk once more before she turned it off.

Leah waited for about three minutes before turning on the car again, the engine sputtering a few times before stalling. She repeated this two or three times before pulling out the keys.

“FUCK.” Leah shouted, laying her head on her wheel.

She let a few tears slip before she looked at her phone.

She couldn’t call Tiffany because she was out of town for work.

Bri was around but she was on a third date with a girl she really liked. And Leah would rather walk home than ruin her friend’s date.

She sighed, getting in contact with AAA to come tow her car. They said they would be there “soon” but based on her experiences in college she knew that could mean five hours right now.

She saw that there was a gas station across the street from where she stalled out, so begrudgingly she decided that is where her dinner would be.

She bundles up her thin hoodie, locked the car and ran across the street – almost slipping a few times.

As she walked in, the cashier gave her a nod and she strolled through the isles.

She grabbed a beef jerky stick, a bag of potato chips and a diet coke.

She normally would never be caught dead consuming such garbage but honsetly this day could not get any worse…

“Is that you Cosmo girl?” she heard a familiar voice say.

Leah froze in her tracks, beef stick a quarter eaten. There was no way it could be her.

As Leah turned around she was greeted with the woman's familiar figure.

She looked a bit different. Her hair was now mid back lengthand she was wearing a big t-shirt and joggers. Leah questioned how she could look so good in such plain clothes.

As the woman's eyes got big at the sight of Leah she finally caught what she looked like in one of the mirror in the corner of the store.

Leah was in a zipped up hoodie with her hood pulled up. Her hair frizzing up underneath and poking through a bit. Her jeans and blouse were soaked and her face… well if it wasn’t the rain that made her makeup run. It was her tears from the car. To complete the look with the several snacks she had in hand was mortifying.

And the woman could sense it, laughing loudly.

Leah blushed with embarrassment, going to walk past her to pay.

“Hey hey.. The stranger said gently, grabbing her arm as she passed. “I’m sorry. You just caught me by surprise with your new…look.” The woman held back a giggle.

“Ha ha laugh it up.” Leah mumbled.

“C’mon Cosmo girl.Let me pay for your snacks as an apology…you look like you need a pick-me-up.” The woman said, taking the snacks out of her hand and heading to the register.

Leah didn’t even put up a fight, she was so embarrassed. To be seen in such a vulnerable state made her uneasy. The woman snapped her out of her thoughts.

“Here you go…Leah.” The woman said handing over a bag as Leah gave a polite thank you.

The woman raised her eyebrow, perplexed by the seemingly different person standing before her than at The Keg a few months ago.

“Did you park far? I can help you out with my umbrella.” The woman said as the pair exited the convenience store.

“Kind of…my car broke down,” Leah said quietly.

“Damn, you really have had a shit day huh?” The woman said.

Leah nodded finally looking up at the woman. Her eyes were not the same as when they first met. They were not filled with mischief or lust just…saddness? Pity? And that made Leah want to run and hide.

“I called AAA. They should be here soon.” Leah said, clearing her throat and breaking eye contact again.

“So like five hours?” The woman said.

The two women looked at each other again as they burst out laughing. Leah started laughing so hard she started crying…almost sobbing. This was her low, her rock bottom, being soaked in a rainstorm after a shit day.

“Well listen I know you may not like what I am about to suggest but do you want to wait at my place? I live right there.” The woman said, pointing to a window about two blocks away.

Leah sighed, thinking of course this was a convenient way to get Leah back to the stranger's home. She had seen horror movies start…and end like this.

As soon as she opened her mouth to make a smart comment she noticed a familiar vehicle pulling up out of her peripheral.

It couldn’t be…this had to be a joke.

And yet when the woman stepped out of her car there she was. Krista. The same Krista that said that Leah was “The One”. The same Krista who said no one or nothing would ever come between them. And yet that was the same Krista who broke up with her by leaving a note and clearing out their apartment while Leah was on a business trip.

Leah’s heart sank as she could tell tears were beginning to form. She quickly turned to the woman who got her the snacks.

“Actually yes that sounds so nice. Lead the way!” Leah laughed nervously.

The woman looked at her, obviously confused by the sudden shift in demeanor from Leah. But as Leah’s gaze shifted between her and the woman pumping gas she put it together that that was not someone Leah wanted to see right now. So she obliged.

Upon entering the apartment Leah was not surprised by the decor. It was like the den of a vampire. All of the furniture was black. There were hints of purple accents on the walls and on some side tables. But it seemed very on-brand for….for this woman? It hit Leah that not only was she in a stranger's apartment, but she had no idea what her name was.

“Make yourself at home.” The woman said, taking off her boots.

“Thank you…uh..” Leah said.

The woman looked up.

“Rhea,” She replied back with a smile.

“Let me go get you a towel and a change of clothes. You're going to get sick if you stay in those.” Rhea said, passing her to go to what Leah presumed was her bathroom.

As she passed Leah got a whiff of her scent again smelling stronger from the rain as a strong emphasis of Burgemont stuck out to her.

Rhea prepared everything in the bathroom and let Leah take her time promising her she would look out for the tow truck in the meantime.

As Leah let the warm water envelope her body, she reflected on the day. She knew Krista lived in the same town. They were bound to run into each other. But catching Leah off guard was rare. It threw her into a state of vulnerability she was highly uncomfortable. I mean, it had been almost a year since their break up but Leah was always in control.

She was able to predict Krista’s every move. But now it seemed like she did not even recognize the woman anymore..or maybe she didn’t recognize herself.

Leah got out of the shower and looked at the clothes Rhea had laid out. She definitely would not typically wear any of these garments. The shirt was black with a soft white design of what she assumed was a band logo in the center. The sweatpants were admittedly comfortable but a little big. She pulled at the drawstring.

She wiped her face for a final time before heading back into the living room. Rhea sat on the window-sill watching her car as she promised.

Leah cleared her throat so as to not scare her. Rhea turned to her.

Rhea’s eyes widened with an emotion Leah could not exactly make out.

“You look...normal,” Rhea said.

“Normal?” Leah said, crossing her arms.

“Not as an insult more like ... .yourself and not some Queen of Ice ready to behead one of her subjects…or a woman buying her a drink in a bar.” Rhea laughed.

“Even Your Majesty has off moments.” Leah sighed heavily plopping down on the couch.

“So…who was the woman at the gas station,” Rhea asked, catching Leah off guard.

“I don’t see why she would be any of your business,” Leah said coming off a bit more harsh than she intended.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I bought you your fabulous dinner, let you shower, and wear my favorite sweatpants. The least you can do is give me a little backstory. “ Rhea said, moving to the opposite side of the couch from Leah.

Leah looked at her expecting a shit-eating grin but the woman looked genuinely interested.

“Did she do anything to you?” Rhea whispers, clenching her fist a little.

“NO no god no – not like that.” Leah quickly said.

“She's just an…ex. Who I didn’t want to see me like that.” Leah admitted.

Rhea sat back in relief but still questioned. “Messy breakup?”

“If you consider leaving a note saying. ‘I used to enjoy thinking about our forever but who could stand to be someone who loves their reputation more than me messy than yes, very.” Leah said, causing Rhea to wince.

“Yeah, I think that counts as messy.” Rhea agreed, earning a small smile from Leah.

“You do give off a very strong aura,” Rhea admitted. “That's why I went and flirted with you at the bar.”

“You liked the fact that I seemed to be almost… repulsed at your flirting?” Leah questioned looking at Rhea.

“I admit you were a tough shell to crack but I noticed something else underneath that cool and mean exterior,” Rhea said, motioning her hands toward Leah.

“Oh yeah and what was that?” Leah asked.

“Excitement,” Rhea smirked, causing Leah to look away from her.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Leah cleared her throat causing Rhea to laugh.

“It was only for a second but I could see the look in your eye when I ordered the drink for you. It was like you were relieved and turned on at the same time. “ Rhea said boldly.

Leah's eyes widened.

“I was NOT turned on. I hate not being in control. What if I had wanted something else? What if I wanted to switch my drink.” Leah said.

“I agree, you seem like you need to be in control of most things in your life but…” Rhea said, moving closer to Leah on the couch. “ I think sometimes you like to give other people control if they prove themselves to you.”

Leah blushed at her forwardness, standing up. Feeling uncomfortable with the ache she was starting to feel in between her legs.

“I think you like to assume a lot of things about me, Rhea,” Leah said, going to glance out of the window still– no truck in sight.

“Like what?” Rhea said, sitting back and spreading her legs a bit.

“Like the fact that I wanted more than one Cosmo at that bar or the fact that you assumed I had a history with my ex at the gas station and that you assumed if you were able to get me back to your apartment I would just go weak at the knees and beg you to take control of me.” Leah ranted pacing back and forth before stopping in front of Rhea.

Leah looked down at Rhea, her breathing getting heavier as Rhea slowly stood up from the couch towering over Leah as the two got close.

“And am I wrong assuming that maybe you came back to my place because you knew I was exactly the person who could take care of you after such a rough day?” Rhea whispered, moving a curl behind Leah’s ear.

The pair breathed quicked as Leah looked up at Rhea as she licked her lips looking at Leah with such affection yet equal parts lust.

Leah would never be so reckless. This woman only learned her name twenty minutes ago and now she was inching closer and closer to climbing on top of this woman. How could she let go so easily?

Rhea bent down to her ear and whispered.

“All you have to do is ask princess…and I’ll take care of you,” Rhea said grabbing her hand and ghosting her lips over Leah’s neck.

Leah’s head mind was racing. There was no way she was going to fall for this woman's spell would she? And yet the only words that came out of her mouth were.

“Please…” Leah whispered. “Fuck me”

That was all Rhea needed to finally press her lips against Leah's throat.

Rhea’s hands shifted down to her hips pulling Leah’s body flush against hers causing Leah to let out a satisfied moan.

As Rhea bit her neck lightly Leah did not even think about the fact she would have a hickey to cover tomorrow just that she wanted more of this feeling. Rhea kissed Leah’s throat, sighing before pressing her lips against Leah’s.

“I thought you would never ask” Rhea smirked, moving her lips in tandem with Leah.

The kiss was so deep Leah barely noticed Rhea sitting them both on the couch as Leah straddled Rhea continuing to press into her.

Rhea moved her hands up from Leah's waist grabbing one of her breasts.

“This okay?” Rhea paused for a moment coming up for air.

Leah nodded, leaning in to kiss her again.

“Ah ah, princess I need to hear you say it. Say you want me to handle these gorgeous tits.” Rhea groaned.

Leah would typically never say such a vulgar sentence but with the pulse coming from between her legs getting stronger Leah had no problem saying it.

“Please play with my tits.”

Rhea obliged quickly, taking Leah’s shirt and throwing it haphazardly across the room.

Since Leah's Bra was soaked it was no surprise either woman when there was no bra to be found.

Leah moaned as Rhea kissed down her cheek grabbing one breast and licking a painfully slow swipe across her left nipple.

“Fuck I can barely fit them in my hands.” Rhea seemed to mumble to herself before taking one nipple in her mouth.

As Rhea sucked and licked and teased Leah’s breast she was not naive to feel Leah’s hips start to buck in search of any friction.

Rhea grinned looking up at Leah as she pulled back biting her nipple before letting it go with a gasp from Leah.

“Sorry, I would love to tease these all day but I have something else I need to take care of,” Rhea said grabbing Leah’s hips and rolling the pain so Leah was now sitting on the couch with Rhea going on her knees between Leah’s legs.

“Since the minute you stepped out here in my clothes all I could think about is how they would look on my floor.” Rhea flashed her shit-eating grin.

Leah was about to get out a witty comeback but the words quickly left her brain as Rhea began tugging on the waistband of Leah’s sweatpants making sure to kiss every inch of her exposed skin as she finally got them off discarding them amongst the pile building in the corner.

Rhea kissed up Leah’s thigh getting dangerously close to her heat as Leah’s eyes widened in anticipation. Rhea looked up at Leah panting and biting her lip down at Rhea.

Rhea paused shaking her head for a moment.

“Is something wrong? “ Leah said sitting up a bit before Rhea grabbed her hips pinning her in place.

“The opposite princess.” Rhea smiled grabbing her wrist and kissing it tenderly.

“You look like a work of art…and I can’t wait to ruin you,” Rhea said whispering the last part as she sat back on her knees, hooked her arms under Leah’s thighs, and licked a long stripe up to Leah’s clit.

Leah threw her head back as the feeling of ecstasy took over.

Leah was attracted to Rhea when they first met in the bar, whether she wanted to admit it or not. But she looked absolutely sinful right now. As her tongue continued to dance across Leah’s clit Leah began to truly observe Rhea. The way her eyes fluttered between looking up at Leah or closing them to focus on her meal. The groans she would let out when Leah started moaning in a higher pitch. But what sent her over the edge was when she moved one hand so she could massage Leah’s clit as her she flicked her tongue in and out of Leah. The way her muscles tightened as Leah reached her peak had her crying out Rhea’s name as she came on her tongue.

Rhea slowed down the pace of massaging her clit so Leah could ride out her high as Rhea got up straddling Leah. Leah finally opened her eyes in time to see Rhea slide her thumb over Leah’s lips and part them a bit.

Leah waited in anticipation as Rhea connected their lips, her tongue immediately begging for entrance. Leah tasted herself off of Rhea's tongue.

Leah tried to grab Rhea’s hips to sit her down on her lap until Rhea stopped her with a smile.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Rhea said, getting up and offering her hand to Leah as she led her to her bedroom.

Leah went from being pressed against the bedroom door to Rhea’s vanity to finally lying on her back in Rhea’s bed.

Leah watched curiously as Rhea stripped, putting on a harness. Leah bit her lip watching her back muscles flex as she bent over attaching a purple dildo to the harness before turning around.

Rhea caught Leah looking, giving her a wink before walking over and sitting on the edge as Leah crawled up to her.

“Mind getting it wet for me sweetheart?” Rhea said in a deeper town stroking Leah's curls before grabbing a fist full as Leah’s eyes widened in excitement.

Leah got on the floor between Rhea's legs as she quickly offered her a pillow to rest her knees on.

Leah was practically salivating when she grabbed the dildo with one hand spitting on the tip and letting Rhea watch it drip down.

Rhea let out a low “Fuck” as Leah started taking it in her mouth Leah batted her eyelashes up at Rhea as she tried to take it to the base.

“That's a good girl,” Rhea said as Leah slowly started bobbing her head up and down on the dildo getting it soaked in spit. Her arousal grew more and more as she imagined it inside of her.

Rhea grabbed a fist full of Leah’s curls again telling her to open as Rhea started fucking her throat.

Leah tried to open her throat as wide as possible, letting Rhea violate her. Leah looked up at Rhea while she gagged and she could have sworn that almost made her cum.

Rhea let go of Leah’s hair and helped her off her knees as she said she needed her right now telling Leah to lay ass up facing the foot of the bed

“As if you couldn’t look any more sexy – look at this ass,” Rhea said, slapping it and getting behind Leah.

Leah hissed at the sting as she felt the dildo start rubbing up and down her pussy.

Rhea teased her lining up with her entrance and pushing in just a little bit before pulling out. She did this about three more times before Leah started whining.

“Please…please,” Leah begged, apparently too quiet.

“What was that princess? You’re going to have to beg louder than that.” Rhea said repeating the same motion but a little bit deeper this time.

“Fuck Rhea please you already have me bent over,” Leah said exasperated.

Rhea went just deep enough to drive Leah crazy as she begged loudly this time.

“Oh my god Rhea please fuck me take control and make me…FUCK.” Leah almost screamed as Rhea fully slid inside her.

Rhea was stroking painfully slow at first making sure to fill her pussy up as far as she could but after a minute or so she started to pick up the pace.

Leah could not imagine how sinful the noises must have sounded to anyone who could have passed. Even on the street below Leah was sure that if it was not pouring rain her moans would have echoed down the street.

“God you look so pretty taking my cock…look at yourself,” Rhea said, grabbing Leah's hair again and making her sit up flush against her. Leah looked up to a mirror that was in front of them. And she could barely recognize herself. Her hair was a mess half in Rhea’s hands the other half sprawled outward. Her tits bounced with every stroke Rhea did and she could tell Rhea was staring hard at them. She could also see the outline of the dildo poking at her lower stomach as Rhea continued her assault.

Leah’s moans got higher again as she felt Rhea’s breast press against her pack and how hard her abs were crunching as she fucked her.

Rhea noticed, snaking a hand up Leah’s stomach to her throat.

“Are you going to cum for me again, pretty girl? Get ready to hold your breath.” Rhea grunted as Leah took a deep breath.

Rhea told her to hold her breath as she tightened her grip.

“I'm going to countdown and on 10 you’re going to let out that pretty noise again and cum for me okay?” Rhea coached her as she began to count.

“10…..9….8…” Rhea began as Leah’s thoughts were getting cloudy. All she could think about was more… more…more..

“7….6….5…..4” Rhea continued.

Leah felt like that bubble building inside her was about to explode as Rhea started rubbing Leah’s clit with her free hand.

“3….2….Cum for me princess.” Rhea encouraged her as Leah felt everything in her body tighten as she came harder than she ever thought was possible.

Rhea let go of her neck, Leah gasping for air as Rhea slowly pulled out and laid Leah down on her back.

“You were amazing….Leah.” Rhea said softly kissing Leah on the forehead. She explained she was just running to get Leah some water and a towel.

During the short time she was gone Leah started being able to form full thoughts again like “Oh my god I just had the best sex of my life with someone I do not even know more than two things about.” And Rhea could tell. When she returned and gave Leah the glass of water, she could tell the woman was embarrassed – sitting with her knees to her chest.

“Hey hey don't start doing that over-thinking thing.” Rhea interrupted her thoughts.

“I'm not- well I…I normally just don’t sleep with people when I haven't even gone out with them. I am not even sure what your favorite color is what you do for work or how you spend your free time.” Leah started after taking a sip.

“Well my favorite color is purple, I am a wrestler, and typically I prefer my alone time but there is someone I ran into tonight I am hoping I get to spend more time with.” Rhea smiled.

“Wait a wrestler?” Leah questioned before her phone started ringing.

After dealing with the phone call and explaining it was the tow truck Rhea looked a bit disappointed but she helped Leah get dressed and helped her get her shoes on.

As Leah got ready to exit the apartment she looked back at Rhea as she waved a half-hearted goodbye before Leah said.

“So is this the part where you ask me for your number or is that out of my control? “

Hi guys! I hope you liked this one it took me...so long. But I hope everyone had a good day and I can be a very steamy wind down to your day. :)

#rhea ripley #mami rhea #rhea ripley imagine #wlw #wwe raw #original character #smut #rhea ripley x oc #wwe #wwe x reader #Rhea #rhea ripley x fem reader #rhea ripley angst #rhea ripley smut

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