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pupcuck · 2 months

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BLIND ITEM !

ft. og re4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. actor au, smut, leon is an ass, some misogyny duh, reader vomits once like non-sexual context, breaking and entering, dub-con that turns to just consensual sex, only one threat of violence :3

note. comm for the sweetest ever @liableperfections / 🪩 anon :3 plot credit goes entirely to her literally had to cut so many words down it was 10k before bc i was so excited ab it so if it seems choppy I’m so sorry… 😭 ignore my attempt at navigating la.. it’s so confusing usa system is so confusing .. ignore any typos :3 feedback n rbs always appreciated!!! REPOST CUZ TUMBLR HATES ME.

Malibu Beach is a terrestrial paradise. A post-apocalyptic Eden of sorts ‘cause there’s no tree of knowledge or any apples— Only thing Malibu Beach and Eden have in common is the naked ladies. It’s the best part of both. Which to Leon is factually correct, but to be politically correct as Hunnigan, his PR manager, would say it’s an opinion.

No need for serpent-induced bedlam, hedonism is at its peak, the fall of man is in full swing. There’s more snow than grains of sand. Leon’s world comes to life in bottle greens and muted blues, water glittering like a diamond behind the dimmed lenses of his aviators.

He snags a cabana close to the shore, draping curtains to keep him safe from blinding cameras and prying eyes and drab women who are more naked than they are clothed. From afar it’s a great sight. Up close it’s a whole lot of cellulite and over-plumped lips and over-plucked brows. Leon’s not picky, his standards are not high, he’s only asking for the bare minimum. Nice face, nice ass, nice tits— It’s expected, but it’s not an expectation ‘cause that would mean girls have to try and live up to it, but most of them come that way. Well, they’re supposed to come that way, but some girls got a little busted on the flight over from heaven.

Ashley faces him, she should be careful when Leon’s around, he pulls on bikini strings more than he tugs on his own dick, and her bikini has started to look especially stringy.

“Can you get my back?” In the light, her lashes twinkle like gossamer wet with morning dew.

Don’t need to ask him twice. Leon’s hands traverse the plains of her back, he coats her skin in lotion like the finest of pâtissiers would a cake, angling the spatula downwards to smooth thick buttercream into pastel swirls of perfection. It’s only SPF10 ‘cause Ashley’s more focused on getting an even tan and less worried about skin cancer.

They’ve been hanging out between filming. Ashley pisses him off with her hoity-toity shit, someone swapped out her brains for that rack, but she’s hot so Leon keeps her around. And to be completely honest, his perpetual state of ennui had been smashed like brittle glass by Ashley alone. If it wasn’t for her, he’d still be riding the Raccoon City wave. Biggest blockbuster to come out of 1998. That’s a big feat. Competition was big names like Deep Impact, The Horse Whisperer— Oh, who is he kidding, nobody remembers that crap, but everybody remembers Raccoon City, the Resident Evil sequel that hit the ball out of the park.

The Resident Evil series is on its fourth instalment, and Ashley Graham insisted he come back to reprise his role; she wanted to act alongside Leon S. Kennedy and no one else. She stinks of money and Chanel Cristalle. Her dad is the studio head, so Leon’s kissing up to her, takes her cruising in his Bugatti Veyron up and down Rodeo Drive. They never breach the Platinum Triangle, he fears Ashley’s diaphanous skin would erode the moment unfiltered air hits her, melt off her bones in fleshly strings until there’s a skeleton rattling around in his passenger seat.

Ashley’s back is real nice. Like, the skin is super clear and creamy white and her shoulder blades stick out the same way a slinky feline’s do. If he could use anorexic as an adjective he would. Not quite, but almost.

“That feels so good, Leon.” He catches the tail end of the glance she casts over her shoulder, it’s flirty and he knows what’s coming next. Ashley’s spine straightens, skin pulled taut to the jagged bone, she twists her upper half and pouts directly at him. She pouts a lot for someone so scared of wrinkles. but when you’re this rich, the de-ageing secret is just Botox he guesses.

“C’mere,” Leon adopts a wider stance, spreading his thighs so she can curl up between them like a cosy pup in bed. “Hey, cutie.” He traces a thumb over her lips which are a milky shade of pink, fingers curling up beneath her chin to tilt her head up towards him.

She’s giving him bedroom eyes. Feathery lashes fanning his skin with the pace at which she bats them, like hummingbird wings beating against the wind. Leon is so going to get laid. Ashley’s nails rake over the sinewed flesh of his sculpted thighs, a testament to his athleticism, he does all his own stunts you know? Shit, he’s about to get the sloppiest head of all time, his dick is about to be degloved by that perfectly puckered pout, suction must go crazy—

In a single sweeping motion, the flimsy curtain is drawn back, fluttering in the same way Leon’s gut lurches. He can’t tell the difference between butterflies and nausea. It all feels the same to him. He half expects to be struck dumb by celestial flashes of camera light that gets him hotter than the sun.

However, in a much more pleasant turn of events, he spots a black whale tail that leads his sharp eyes to a bead of sweat dripping down a toned abdomen— Her belly button sticks out which Leon hates, but those tiny hotpants make up for her faults. They’re so short the flappy pockets are visible, distressed denim fringe brushing nice thighs that have got to mean an even nicer ass is right behind.

The face is even cuter. Round cheeks yet to shed baby fat, the apples smattered with charming freckles, her reddish ponytail is stiff with salt water. “Move,” she demands in a dictatorial fashion as if the world would bend to her will, rolling over and baring its belly like an appeased dog under her command.

Leon, against his better judgement, stays put. Who even are you, lady? The audacity of some girls, must be a fan of some kind. A clammy hand lands on his leg. Feels more like a dead fish left to rot on the docks. He shivers inwardly, prying sticky fingers off of him to clarify what the actual fuck is going on.

There’s a pretty girl in your peripheral. Not Claire. She’s not pretty in the way Claire is. She’s model pretty, might be a model or an actress or both, or neither. Just plain old pretty. But, it’s not plain, it’s extraordinary really. Polly Pocket dolly plucked from her compact home— Oh, gosh, your stomach is fucking killing right now.

Life is crazy, right? One minute you’re sucking face with a cute guy from Europe, and the next minute rotgut Mai Tais are not pairing well with the sweltering Malibu heat. And now you have reached the gates of heaven, fat-bellied clouds and Polly Pocket and something firm in your hand like a muscled calf. Not like a muscled calf, it is a muscled calf and it belongs to the most devastatingly handsome man you have ever laid eyes upon.

You anticipate the sprouting of wings from his back, the halo of Malibu sunlight that crowns his dirty blond hair to form an actual fucking halo. Holy fuck. You hope God can’t read your thoughts right now. Praying is out of the question, that’s like directly asking God not to press the big red button— Everyone presses the big red button, and then God would cast you down to hell in a fit of disgust. All ‘cause you want this angel to put your thighs to your chest and fuck you boneless with his seraphic dick.

“What the fuck, man?” Is the angelic knowledge he imparts upon your dying body. You feel like you’re being cooked alive, hot oil bubbling your skin.

“What is your problem, man?” Claire’s utterance comes at the same time.

“Hey, Claire,” you greet weakly.

“Hey, babe.” The back of her cool hand rests on your forehead, the heat is going to sear her skin like a piece of Grade-A beef. “Listen, man, can you just take your girlfriend and go?”

“She’s not my—“

“Leon, let’s just go.” The blonde girl loops her arm around this divine being’s bulging bicep.

Claire closes the curtain to shield you from the sun. It brings forth a wave of relief to your sizzling body, doused in floral breeze and sea-salt-infused linen.

“Aw, babe, you’re fucked.” She fans you lightly with her hand in hopes that man-made wind is enough to combat heat stroke or alcohol poisoning or whatever it is.

“You can head back, ‘m good here,” you slur, “gonna take a nap”

“You sure?” Claire pets your head, you see past her composed exterior, inside is a girl who’s mourning the loss of that cute beach bunny who ran for the hills the moment you started to emanate the smell of sickness.

“Mhm.” You nod, a sluggish movement that makes your liquified brain slosh about in your head. “I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll come check on you later, yeah? Just stay right here for me.” She lays a damp towel over your lower half and you feel like a bit of a beached whale. Like, fucking slack and stupid and heavy with sleep. It’s so unfair. Your one day off and the excessive day drinking comes to bite you in the ass.

Your nap is plagued by divine visions - getting to sink your teeth into that angel’s biceps. So life is not all bad. At least you’ve still got wet dreams to keep you going. The sun has sunken beyond the horizon, dwindling light paints the landscape a burnt orange, the deepening blues of the water taking on a coral hue as you poke your head out past the cotton curtains.

In the distance, you spot a mildly Claire-shaped dot with a ponytail. She’s still having fun so you make no move to bother her, instead you gather your belongings in a methodical manner. Beach towel folded at the bottom of your bag, cover-up slotted neatly into the side pocket. Water bottle and sunscreen on top - making sure to check the caps on both are tightly screwed on. Purse, keys, phone. You’ve got it all.

Though you’ve regained a sense of self - whatever you were going through a few hours ago that was an out-of-body experience - a tight knot lingers in the depths of your gut. It’s lodged in your throat. You proceed to the bathrooms located near the car park, beach bathrooms are not the nicest place on earth, but you’re not going there for a relaxing retreat, you’re there to unload the unholy amount of vomit that sits in your stomach like sunken rocks in a burlap sack.

Your gait is slightly off, it’s hard to navigate the beach in rubbery flip-flops, limping as your feet are anchored into the sinking sand with each step. After a treacherous journey over the colossal (read: totally flat, flatter than a brown rat’s feet) dunes, you’re granted access to the mildewy washrooms— The door swings open and collides with your delicate skull. A surge of nausea hits your system like adrenaline, pumping through you, and you pitch forward, hands on your knees as you hurl.

“What the fuck? Are you stupid?”

His voice is like the gentle tinkering of bells or a choir of angels, it’s thick and smooth like molasses, a knife through hot butter. All of the above. Even when he’s swearing the unholiest words you have ever heard under his breath. It’s him, the guy from before. And you just missed vomiting on his feet. Narrowly. He did hit you with a fucking door though. So there’s that.

“Oh my gosh, are you okay? I saw that!” The cute blonde from before has swiftly joined his side.

“I’m fine, Ashley, she ran into me.” Ashley… Ashley…You might’ve seen her on a billboard somewhere in Hollywood. Certainly looks the type.

“Not you, asshole, oh my god, Leon. Are you serious? You hit her!” Her voice is like money. Papery thin, but there’s substance to it. Makes the world go round. Makes you happy. This concussion might be making you woozy enough to feel happy. “Oh my god, are you, like, okay?”

You clutch at the wall of the beach hut-shaped washroom, steadying yourself. “I’m good, yeah, I’m really good, thanks for asking.” The vomit is gone from your system, that’s a step forward, but now there’s an ugly bump forming on your head.

“What if you have a concession?” Ashley frets, she makes no move to step closer as she would have to manoeuvre the puddle of vomit.

“A concussion.” Leon corrects, he side-steps to make a swift and graceful exit from this situation, making a beeline for the topless convertible parked a few rows over. Oh, shit this guy is like a big shot, and you almost puked on him. Keyword almost.

“Leon! Hello? We can’t just leave her!” She waves her arms at him wildly, like she’s flagging down a rescue helicopter.

“Oh no, my friend’s still here, I came in her car,” you begin, smiling sheepishly as she has made you feel a little like an abandoned puppy. Or a nuisance.

“No, no, you’re sick, like, really sick, and Leon hit you. He totally owes you.” Ashley insists, a delicate hand grasps your wrist in a surprisingly firm grip. “Get in the front.” She’s demanding not in the same way Claire is, but in the way of a spoiled little girl. It works for her, and you plop down on a leathery seat that sticks to your skin. “Leon, I’m gonna meet daddy over in Carbon, so don’t worry about me, okay?” She flutters her fingers at him. “Behave yourself!”

Shit. This car costs more than you would on the black market. That makes you nervous. The guy makes you even more nervous. The way he’s glowering at you— What an asshole. Ashley’s right, he hit you hard, you so deserve a swanky ride home.

“Are you stalking me?” He asks, sunglasses perched on the top of his head, he looks like a total asshole, levelling you up with those glacial eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you stalking me?” He’s like dead serious right now.

“Why would I be stalking you?” There’s genuine confusion on your face, at least that’s what you want Leon to believe.

“Funny,” he scoffs, “real funny.”

“I’m sorry, what’s so funny?” You blink at him stony, gaze unwavering.

You, bitch. Acting like you don’t know him, like his face isn’t plastered all over California. In every nook and cranny. From flagship stores to beige vegan cafes that are frequented by a handful of hipsters and bored trophy wives alone. “Nothing,” Leon settles on, you can play dumb all you want, but this isn’t his first rodeo with stalkers.

In your hand, your Nokia beeps, and much to his annoyance, you pick it up to make casual conversation with whatever creep that’s put you up to this plan. “No, I didn’t mean to scare you, Claire. I literally kinda, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain, but I’m safe, okay? I’m in a…” You trail off, casting a sideways glance at him, “I’m in a taxi right now.”

He squeezes the steering wheel white-knuckled. You’re playing with him right now, and it’s not fucking funny. A little pathetic if anything.

“Yeah, I got enough cash on me to make it back, don’t worry about it. I will, I will, yep, okay. Bye, Claire.” You drop your cell phone into your beach bag and it falls quiet apart from the prowling growl of his engine.

“Where you need to go?” Leon asks, his teeth grinding together, offset by his clenched jaw.

“Santa Monica.”

“That’s helpful,” he says dryly. “Long way over.”

“I’m just being safe.” You shrug. “It’s half an hour, where’d you come from anyway? Beverly Hills?”

“You’re being unhelpful,” he repeats to cement the fact that he is going out of his way to be an upstanding citizen and help stupid girls who walk face-first into doors no matter how stupid they fucking are. Leon’s soft spot for girls is clearly limited. “Bel Air,” he adds a moment later, “but you know that, don’t you?” It’s in every tabloid, don’t gotta be a stalker to know where he lives.

“No, I do not, I seriously don’t know who you are, man.” Your profile is nice enough, not an eyesore, lips look kissable, you would look nice at his feet he decides. Girls like you need dick in your mouth to learn a few things about shutting up.

“You got in my car.” Leon points out.

“I was forced into your car.” Comes your rebuttal.

“Listen, I don’t have time for your shit, just tell me.” Leon never raises his voice at women, that would be a brash decision, girls hear a slight shift in tone and go cuckoo. When you talk to them all nice and sweet they turn to putty with no regard for the subject matter at hand. Could be harvesting a few organs or taking a couple billion out of their trust fund, it doesn’t matter, they’ll be stuck swooning.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Look at you, you think you’re the shit. “I can get home from the boardwalk.”

Leon is a lot of things. He is an asshole, he would feel like more of an asshole if he made a chick walk home in the dark. He swallows his pride and he swears his Adam’s apple bulges out further than usual. “I’ll take you home, no sweat, I owe you one.”

“I’m good, I want to walk.” You are one stubborn bitch.

“You could use the walk,” Leon says, a slip of the tongue. He didn’t mean anything by that. Listen, it just came out. Promise. You’re testing his fucking patience.

You bristle beside him, to his surprise you make no move to insult him in turn. “Who are you, even?” It’s thrown over your shoulder coolly. “Like, am I supposed to know you?”

“Leon,” Leon says, and to his knowledge there are no other Leon’s in Hollywood - Leonardo DiCaprio does not count.

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” You’ve gotta be messing with him. It’s working, you’re driving him insane.

“Okay, sure.” He bites his tongue, and soon enough you tell him your address. Not the nicest part of Santa Monica, not the worst part. Definitely not Downtown L.A. so that’s good.

The velvet sky is frosted by stars, and it is a beautiful night for road head which Leon really fucking deserves for putting up with so much shit. If it were Ashley by his side he would’ve been forced to pullover more than a few times on the drive over to The Flats.

He pulls up in front of a house that looks to be made of paper mache. Wow, you’re slumming it. Leon makes an unmitigated promise to himself to never be seen around these parts ever again. The air is different, and there’s so many bad smells and oh my lord is that a homeless woman? He better leave before she knocks on his car door to offer him a good time.

“Bye, sweetheart,” Leon tells you because he is the prime example of a gentleman. “Not gonna thank me?”

“What an asshole.” You don’t even bother to say it under your breath, just to his fucking face after he dropped you off in this ugly, grey neighbourhood in his gorgeous convertible.

He forgets about you by morning. Leon has seen more women than a gynaecologist will in their lifetime. You’re another forgettable rack. That is until the following week. A blind item drops. He skims the page.

Blond guy… Plays a lot of action-hero roles… Good with women… Total Asshole… Something about harassment… Something about a full article dropping next week…

Sounds like Leon alright. Hunnigan is on his ass about it. Ashley is on his ass about it. The director is on his ass about it. The staff are looking at him funny. The room is spinning. Leon is going to take a prop gun and shoot himself. He’s managed to keep his asshole status under wraps, money and dick go a long way for girls— Shit, that bitch from Santa Monica. You were not an easy lay, there was no laying in fact. He didn’t offer you sympathy dick to make up for whatever he said to get your panties in a twist.

Leon checks his watch— Filming can wait, Ashley can wait, he won’t be long. Traffic is a nightmare, this sheepskin jacket is sticking to him - only time he has ever lamented having a roofless car. He shrugs off his costume, lays it over the headrest of the passenger seat. Your place is the crumbling stack of bricks tucked into the far corner of a street that is more litter than street.

He knocks on your door firmly, afraid it’ll knock down the paper walls. You don’t answer. He knocks again, taps his foot, and you do not answer. Leon tries the handle, he’s fucking desperate, okay? This film— The premiere has to go smoothly, he has to be back in the limelight and then you can go around making as many accusations as you please, send the pitchfork-wielding mob his way the moment promotions are over.

The door opens. Leaving your door unlocked in a neighbourhood this rough, oh, honey, you’re just begging for it, aren’t you? He steps over the threshold, the door clicks shut behind him, he moves forward in deliberate strides like he knows his way around. To be fair, there’s not many rooms to explore, not Ashley’s sprawling marble landing. From the top of the stairs, he hears your voice.

“Claire, is that you? I just got out the shower, wait there!”

Babe, you got ready for him? That’s cute, he hopes you shaved. The floorboards creak under his boots, climbing the stairs to face the open door of the bathroom. You’re in there, facing the mirror, wrapped in a baby blue towel. Easy access. When you spot him in the reflection, you drop the tub of cleansing cream in the sink basin, it splatters at the same moment your scream shatters the silence.

“What— How did you get in? Why’re you in my house? Get out!” All questions that Leon would answer if you shut up. You’re a stupid little thing, backing yourself into the wall until the back of your knees bump the bathtub. “Oh my god—“

“I let myself in, door was open, babe,” Leon says smoothly, “That’s real dangerous, y’know?”

You clutch at the shower curtain and almost bring it down on your head, Leon pries your fingers from the material as his hands find purchase on the fat of your hips. “Get off me— Get off, get off, get off!” Your spine straightens when he taps your cheek sharply. Huh. That worked. Is that what you need to loosen up? A nice, hard fuck. Some dick in that lonely pussy of yours.

“Hey, calm down, it’s just me.” The guy you think you know all about. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You’re breaking into my fucking house, you fucking psycho, why would I want to talk to you?” Little fists hammer away at his chest, nails catching on his chest holster that looks more like BDSM gear than anything useful.

“You kidding me?” Leon captures your chin, his touch is anything but tender, a tactile intrusion that leaves crescent-shaped impressions on your jaw. “Had a lot to say in that article.”

“Is that… Is that what this is about?” You catch your breath, trying to appear nonplussed, though you tread carefully in trepidation. “The article isn’t even out yet-“ A soft whimper betrays your confident front when Leon bows his head to meet your eyes.

“Look at me when you’re speaking,” he instructs, and you do. What a good girl. “Okay, there you go, baby, continue.”

The disdain that spoils your pretty face intensifies at his words, and yet you can’t look away. Cute. Head says one thing, pussy says another. “I’m not- I’m not making Claire drop the article, this is the biggest scoop she’s ever had, and you’re gross.” You stand your ground. “You’re an asshole, I hope nobody ever has to deal with your shit again, I hope you get blacklisted, like, forever and fucking ever. I watched your shitty movies, I could do better than that and I got a D in drama class, you’re just hot and you get away with it-“

“That’s not very nice.” Leon talks to you like he is scolding a misbehaving child. Which you are. A rash little girl driven forward by noisy temerity. “We talked once, sweetheart. I wanted to go on a second date, what a shame.” He’s glad you find him hot though.

“Fuck off.”

“C’mon, you’re too cute to be using nasty words like that.” His teasing is not taken in stride, you elbow him in the gut and squirm out of his grip. Leon recovers fairly well, his fingers catching the hem of your towel, unravelling it like a spool of thread. He draws you closer, naked, wet body flush to his clothed one. Nice tits, tick, cute ass, tick, he wants to see how you’d look in a tight skirt, one that hugs your stomach and hips and the tapering of your waist. The type Hunnigan wears when she means business.

And shit. Your pussy is the only thing cuter than your face. Shaved bare like you knew he was coming. You wanted it. You did. Leon doesn’t see any other hot dates waiting for you. “Aw, baby, you shouldn’t have.” He coos, tracing your puffy pussy lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t do that…” Your voice is merely a whisper, and you’re not scared, girls like you don’t get scared. They get pissed off. Heated. Angry and upset. But never scared.

“Is this what you want, babe? Some dick ‘n you’ll shut up? Just wanted my attention.” Leon’s voice is a low rumble in your ears, he drawls like a slow trickle of sticky honey. Nothing is stickier than your cunt. He parts your lips, catching the dribbles of slick that form in beads along your slit. “Jesus, you’re fuckin’ wet, baby. You needed this, didn’t you?”

“No,” you croak out, throat dry from only a few minutes of disuse.

“No? You want me to stop then, sweetheart?” Leon slows his touch, it diminishes until it’s gone entirely and you whine at the loss so sweetly. “You’re not making any sense, babe.”

“Oh my god.” You suck in a breath, trembling not out of fear, but out of unadulterated rage and dizzying lust for a piece of his dick. “Fuck you.” He takes that as a Please, fuck me!

“How about we do something easier, baby.” Leon forces you onto your knees, and he was fucking right. You look so good like this. Knelt by his feet. His belt is unclipped, pants unzipped, boxers lowered. He guides his dick into your mouth, and you really are the most cock-starved thing he's ever met, ‘cause you open up and swallow him whole.

Then you do the sluttiest fucking thing a girl has ever done for him - reach back and jab your nails into the meat of his ass to force his dick deeper down your throat. “Shit, that’s right, baby— Fuck, you’re a fucking freak, huh?” Leon rewards you with a skull fuck. Balls clapping wetly and obscenely against your chin.

You gag on it, and you love it. God, he feels the pulse of your cunt through his boot when you grind yourself down on the steel toe cap. It’s round enough to do no damage, cool enough to help that hot cunt out, and the perfect shape to part your folds and stimulate your swollen clit.

Leon slaps it on your cheek a couple of times, then he tightens his hand around the shaft as you play with his balls, try to fit ‘em in your mouth like jawbreakers. Shit, fuck, his brain fucking blanks. He’s gonna cum if you don’t stop. His hand comes to rest on your forehead, hoping to snuff out the pleasure that builds too soon in his belly, you pop off his cock, refusing to stop making out with his tip, tonguing the slit like you’re getting paid to do this.

The bedroom is a couple metres away, it’s an awkward shuffle over with his lips slotted to yours, tongue running over your teeth, licking at your gums. Your back hits the handle, then less than a metre after that it hits the squeaky mattress. He kisses down your body, you smell like fruity body wash, it might be strawberry or raspberry. It smells like pink, that’s all he knows.

A sloppy kiss is placed on the very front of your mound. “You want me to play with your sticky little pussy, baby?”

“Ew,” you whimper out, nodding anyways, legs bent at the knee to bare your sweet pussy to him.

He laps at you like a dog. Eating pussy is tedious, Leon likes pushing heads down on his dick, it’s way better. But to hear you moan like that, shit he would do it a thousand times over, latch onto your clit and suck till you see stars. “Did you like that, baby? Fuck, creamed on my fucking tongue, sweet little thing.” He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. Sure, Leon's going to go back to set smelling of your cunt, it’s not so bad. He quite likes it. Better the tang of pussy than sweat.

“Jus’ put it in,” you beg, “please, please—“

“I heard you the first time, sweetheart. Be patient.” Leon takes your ankles in his hands, puts them by your ears. See this? That’s when Leon can tell a girl really fucking wants him. When she holds her thighs up for him, and then she puts her palms flat to spread herself as open as she can get. “Jesus, baby, you’re a slut.” He laughs derisively, it rolls off his tongue as sweetly as any other pet name.

You’re left keening when the head of his dick sinks into your weeping cunt, your toes curl, and Leon cranes his neck to kiss your ankle. He runs his hands over the backs of your plush thighs, circling his hips as he eases into you— He’s lying. In his world, there’s no easing. Leon’s dick is mean, and he can tell you’ve been dying for a rough fuck. He bottoms out the second his head pops past your fluttering hole. Then he’s balls-to-the-wall. Like, literally. They’re heavy against your ass, slapping loudly with each measured thrust.

“Baby,” Leon starts, he’s breathless, rolling his hips into yours, “I swear on my life, sweetheart, if that shit drops I’ll beat you fuckin’ bloody.” That article dropping would signal the end of his life as he knows it. Your pussy clamps down on him at his words. “Oh, you nasty little bitch, you liked that?”

There’s a string of yes, yes, yeses! and then a string of expletives, and then a drawn-out call out of his name as he drives into you with all the force of a freight train. Your nails are scratching down his back, and your pussy is coating him in the same wetness that pools below your ass.

“Take it, baby, take it, fucking take it.” It takes one last thrust for you to come undone, your orgasm has your body going ramrod straight, and then your pussy fucking gushes. And Leon in all his years of sex and women and pussy and fucking has never made a girl do that. Half of him is convinced you’ve gone and pissed on him, the other half is sure he’s made you squirt like girls do in porn— Holy shit. He’s twenty-seven years old and he only just made a girl squirt.

You cry out as he grinds into you, his dick bumping your cervix, his pelvis grinding into your clit— And you sob, shaking your head as another burst of liquid spurts out of your cunt, soaking his abdomen, soaking his fucking shirt that belongs to the costume department—

Fuck, he’s gonna cum. He’s cumming hard. Leon’s balls tighten, and his shaft twitches as his load shoots out of the tip of his cock into your tight cunt. He didn’t pull out. If there’s one thing, he’s good at, it’s pulling out. Leon made a girl squirt, and he didn’t pull out. All in one day. What an accomplished man he is.

“Mmm.” You roll onto your front, face in the pillows as you catch your breath, still shivering as aftershocks zap at your nerve endings. Leon wipes the sweat built on his forehead, strands of his hair stuck to it. “I’m not convinced, the article’s still going up.”

What a bitch.

“Right.” He delivers a brisk swat to your ass, it elicits an involuntary yelp. “Guess I’ll have to convince you. I got a week, don’t I?”

“A week and a half,” you say, not bothering to bid him bye as he zips his cargos, “I’m pretty hard to convince.” Cheeky.

“It can be done.” Through another round of dick from Monday to Friday.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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444rockstargf · 9 months

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"white bikini off with my red nail polish." | ollie sway

off to the races - lana del rey

summary: giving ollie a little show while he watches you swim

female!reader x ollie

contents: drinking, masturbation, handjob

it was a beautiful day. the sun was shining and there was a crisp breeze in the air. the perfect setting for a day on the lake.

you and ollie made your way down to the water. you laid down a blanket on the small patch of sand, while ollie brought out a bottle of Black Cristal vintage champagne.

once you were both settled, you took off your denim shorts and flannel, revealing your body in the new two-piece bikini that he had gifted to you.

his eyes immediately widened at the sight, a sly little smirk creeping up on his face. he sit back as you went into the water, popping open the champagne.

ollie took out his binoculars as he took a swig from the bottle, admiring your elegant beauty. at that moment, you were his seductress.

the sunlight hit your body at the most flattering angle as you swam in the clear blue water. ollie sighed as he took in this moment.

your skimpy little bikini clung onto your body as the water saturated its white fabric, making it a little bit more translucent.

ollie's mind started to run wild with lustful thoughts, a bulge starting to grow in his pants. he groaned softly as he put his hand on his boner.

you swim back to ollie, slicking your hair out of your face. you grab the bottle of champagne from beside him, taking a long swig. you immediately noticed the bulge in his pants. you knew he was having a good time, and so were you.

you hopped back into the water. you get a comfortable distance away from ollie before reaching your hands to the little string holding your bikini top together.

you slowly untie the bow, letting the tiny little top fall off of you, exposing your tits to ollie.

his cheeks flush red as he sees this, not that the top was covering that much in the first place. he quickly unbuckled his belt, tossing it to the side. he slid his shorts down just enough for his hard cock to spring out.

he picked up his binoculars again, not wanting to miss a single thing that you do. he wrapped his hand around his erection, moving it slowly. he let out a soft hiss at the feeling.

you ran your hands down your wet body in a teasing manner, starting at your chest and working your way down.

you swam to where the water was a little more shallow so that ollie could get a better look at you. you tossed the wet bikini top to him, and he caught it with a smile.

he wrapped it around his cock and started jerking off. you swam a little more, fully on display for ollie.

you heard as his breathing got heavier, his groans got louder, and his whimpers shakier. he was getting close.

you got out of the water and crawled to him, sitting down on his legs. he cupped your breasts before starting to suck on your nipples.

you took his dick in your hands and started stroking it, speeding up your pace as you see him getting into it. he was letting out low, shaky moans as he left red marks all over your chest.

his cock starts twitching in your hand. you know he's getting close. he moaned out your name and started panting. pre-cum starts bubbling from the tip of his swollen cock. he bucked his hips into your hand. he groaned loudly as he let out his load, shooting strings of cum all over the both of you.

he breathed heavily as he came down from his high, looking at you adoringly. you kissed him on the forehead before putting his softening cock back into his shorts.

he laid down with you on top of him, stroking your hair as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat. he looks forward to seeing you in that bikini a lot more often now.

author's note: this was rlly fun to write. i will be a little less active today due to some personal matters, but I am still working on all requests. :))

#the song of sway lake #ollie sway #oliver sway #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin smut #lana del rey

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andydrysdalerogers · 3 months

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The Type You Save - F I F T E E N

James "Bucky" Barnes and OFC Alexandra "Alex" Richards

Detective James Barnes hasn't seen the love of his life in three years. Since the night she was almost caught stealing a painting. He knows it was her and she disappeared leaving him confused and heart broken.

Alexandra Richards never expected to be pulled back into her old life two years after she left it. She had found love and a home and was happy. Until a note blackmailed her to take one last job. Three years later she walked into the last person she expected to see in San Francisco. Because he lived in New York right?

They always put family before everything. And he would do anything to get his family back. Because she's the type you save.

TW: mob, death, smut, rape intentions, angst, guns, family abandonment, dub-con, manipulation

A/N: We are nearing the end!

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Previous: F O U R T E E N

Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Christian Grey has always appreciated the finer things in life. Luxurious home, top of the range car, Cristal, 25-year-old scotch, the works. A man of his status and wealth should have a standard. Including the right woman.

Alexandra Richards was that woman.

He stared at the woman next to him as Nate drove, Walker beside him. He watched as she wiped an errant tear that fell to her cheek. She kept her face to the window, studying the country side as they drove. She didn’t bother asking where they were going, they would never tell her.

“Pet, would you like some water?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alexandra, you need to eat or drink something.”

“Not if I want to die, Mr. Grey.” Her tone remained even, never looking away from the window.

Grey grounded his teeth, wanting to force her to drink. But he waited, allowing her emotions. She was different than his pet from before. She was strong, independent before. Now she was despondent, fragile. A mother. She was in mourning for the loss of her son. He would try and change that soon but for now, he needed to break her and change her back to the woman she was.

His Alexandra.

James watched from the doorway of his sleeping son’s room, observing his little body as it curled around his teddy bear. He knew the sleep was from exhaustion, having to have explained to his son that his mother wasn’t going to be here for a while. He was a momma’s boy through and through. He closed the door softly and back into the empty apartment.

Steve was still tracking Alex. He almost laughed to himself again. He went to their bedroom and to his side table. He lifted the necklace from its place. The duplicate he had switched in Alex’s jewelry box was damn near perfect. Either she had noticed and didn’t say anything or she was losing her touch. Either way, the switch had allowed a tiny tracker to be embedded with her. That’s why Steve was on the hunt.

After searching for Zemo at his home and secondary office, it was painfully clear that he had been the mole for some time now. It was too coincidental that Walker had found Alex so quickly. The APB was out for everyone. All he could do now was wait. His phone went off.

Stark: He’s still tracking. They’ve almost made it to Tahoe Barnes: ok Stark: We’ll find her Barnes: I know. Just bring my son’s mother home to him. Barnes: Bring her back to me

James laid down and clutched her pillow. It still smelled like her. Of strawberries and roses, of her. Finally, twelve hours after she disappeared, he cried.

Alex jolted awake as the car slowed to a stop. She looked around in the darkness, unsure of where she was. She could make out the outline of trees in the moonlight but after that, she had no clue. Until she turned to see a house. It was out of a movie. Stark white, wrap around porch with large windows. Nate and Walker were already out of the car and walking up while Grey was studying her as she took in the home. “What do you think?”

“It’s a beautiful home.” She wouldn’t lie.

“Good.” Grey gave her a smile. “I built it for you.”

“For me?”

“You had a house, similar to this, in that notebook you used to have. Your journal. I found it after you left and wanted to have something ready for you when you came back.”

“I didn’t come back. You kidnapped me.”

“You left voluntarily.”

“To save my husband and son.”

“Your husband?” Grey sneered. “Your husband is nothing compared to me.”

“My husband is a thousand times the man you will ever be.”

Grey reached and grabbed her by the hair, and she squealed in pain. “Listen to me Alexandra. You are mine now. You made your choice.” He pulled a little harder and she whimpered. “I do miss that sound pet.”

“Please, stop.”

“No.” He opened the car door and dragged her out. She screamed and thrashed but Grey gripped her arm. “This is your home now Alex. Let’s get you acquainted.” He pulled her up the steps. She had no time to take in the interior as Grey marched her up to the master bedroom. “I have clothes and toiletries in the bathroom. There is nothing sharp or poisonous in here so don’t try. I’ll be back.”

Grey slammed the door closed and she heard a click as she was now locked in the room. She sank to the floor and cried.

Being a MIT graduate should have been something that Grey had factored into his grand scheme. There is always something sharp or poisonous in everything. After crying, Alex got to work, taking the plastic toothbrush and using the counter to sharpen it. She just had to get past the door, and she could fight her way out. She hoped Nate would help her at some point, but she couldn’t count on that.

Keeping her crude tool close, Alex decided to inspect the rest of the room. The windows were locked, meaning the only way was to break them, attracting unwanted attention. Clothing in her size were in the drawers, no strings on any of them. Slip on shoes negated laces. Bastard really did think of almost everything. She heard footsteps coming and she hid the toothbrush under the pillow. She sat against the headboard, as far away as possible. The door opened revealing Nate. Alex let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Hey Nate.”

“Hey Allie Cat.”

“That’s a new one.”

“Had time to think about it.” He went to sit on the edge of the bed, but still blocking the door. “I told you to run.”

“And I told you that I couldn’t abandon my family again.”

“Were you always this stubborn?”

She shrugged. “Probably. But we were usually on the same team.” She studied Nate. He looked tired, worn. “What is the plan for me Nate?”

“The plan? The plan. Shit Alex, you should know the Boss by now. He’s gonna want his pet back by his side.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“He’s gonna try and break you Alex if you don’t do it willingly. This is why I told you to run. But no, the great Cat Burglar had to do things her own way.” Nate started to pace. “Fuck Alex, I tried to protect you. I found you three times before he sent Walker. And he only sent Walker when that fucker Zemo ratted you out.”

“Zemo? Zemo is yours?”

“Not mine Alex. His.” He cupped her face. “I’m sorry. I’m only up here because Grey asked me to try to convince you. Just give in. Save yourself. If only so that you save your son, your husband from any more pain. Please Alex.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I love my husband and my family. I need my family Nate. I need them just as much as I need you. Please help me.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I wish I could.” He stepped back. “I’ll do what I can for you. But unless by some miracle you are found, you are his.” He turned and left the room, locking it as he went.

It was deathly quiet now. And a sob was ripped from room as Alex began to wail.

Nate walked back downstairs, trying to ignore the sobs that were now being ripped from her chest. His best friend. Well former best friend after his act of betrayal. He made it to the living room and walked past Walker and Grey. He reached the bar cart and poured himself a drink. He needed to feel numb now.

“What did she say?” Grey asked, looking up from the papers he was studying.

“That she wants to go home to her family.”

Walker let out a sadistic laugh. “Kitty lost her claws. What a little pussy.”

Grey glared at Walker until the man’s face fell. He snorted. “That’s a shame.” He looked up at the stairs. “Let her cry it out tonight. We start tomorrow.”

“Start with what?” Nate looked at his boss.

“Breaking her.”

Steve could hear snippets of the conversation happening in the home. He peaked in to see the three men sitting and talking before the one with the drink threw it back and slammed it down, exiting the room. Steve picked up his phone.

Rogers: found her Stark: thank god. She ok? Rogers: no idea. Security tight no clean entry or exit Stark: fuck. Ok. I’ll reach out to local Rogers: roger that.

He looked around and saw the guy who left angrily now standing on the porch, hand on the railing, head bowed. The man shuddered like he was trying to keep his emotions in. “Fucking Alex, why doesn’t she listen?”

“She does that.” Nate swiveled to look at Steve. He went to reach for his weapon, but Steve drew first. “Whoa there, sunshine.” Nate slowly raised his hands. “I think you and I are after the same thing. To help Alex.”

Nate cocked his head. “You’re Steve.”

“You must be Nate. If I lower my weapon, we cool?”

“Yeah.”

Steve holstered his weapon. “Can they hear us in there?”

“No, but better safe than sorry. Garage in the back. Meet you there in five.” Nate went back inside.

Steve made is way around through the woods. He waited behind until Nate called for him. “How is she?”

“She’s scared and probably planning to do something stupid. She’s Alex.”

Steve huffed. “Yeah, typical. Look I have reinforcements coming but it will take until morning to get them here. I need to know how I can get in there and rescue her.”

Nate sighed. “You’ll help with my case?”

“For Alex, yeah I will.”

James was awakened by his phone a few hours later. He reached over, the bright screen hitting his eyes causing him to squint.

Stark: He found her Barnes: She ok? Stark: status undeterminable but I’ve sent locals to help Barnes: give me the coordinates. Stark: sent. I’m coming with. Be there in 10

James called Natasha. “We found her.”

Oh thank god.

“I need you to come stay with Drew.”

I’m on my way.

James got his gear together as well as some stuff for Alex. He crept into Drew’s room, his boy still sleeping peacefully. “I love you Chief,” he whispered. He slipped Alex’s necklace over his head. “You take care of this for me and Mommy, ok?” He kissed his head and walked out. Nat showed. “The documents you might need are in the safe in our closet. Combo is 03-10-19-17. We left some stuff for Drew when he’s older.”

“Bucky…”

“I’m gonna do everything I can to bring us home but just in case. Please take care of our boy.”

Nate hugged James hard. “Be safe.”

Stark knocked on the open door frame. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The sun hadn’t risen yet when Alex was awakened by the door opening. She held still. “Pet?” Alex reached slowly under the pillow for her toothbrush and gripped it tight. When she sensed him close, she swung, the sharp point she created cutting the skin on his arm. “Fuck!”

Alex rose and swung her leg around, dropping him as he gripped his forearm to stop the bleeding. She ran to the door and down the stairs. She could see the front door but was grabbed around the middle. “Let me go!”

“I see Kitty did have her claws,” Walker said in her ear as he adjusted his grip. “And now I get to play with the Kitty.”

Alex paled as she was held in place by Walker as Christian walked down the stairs, a towel on his arm. “Let’s get her to the garage. I don’t want to make a mess in the house.” Walker pulled her out and marched her to the back of the property.

Steve and Nate were there in the shadows, waiting for the backup promised to Steve. It was getting close to dawn when Steve heard the cries of his best friend. He watched as Alex was dragged into the garage. “Shit. We have to get in there.” Steve and Nate both moved to pull their weapons.

A gun cocking behind them caused them to freeze. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Steve didn’t have time to turn before the butt of the gun hit his head and he was knocked out.

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#andy's shenanigans #andy's hea #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #the type you save #sebastian stan #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky x ofc #Steve rogers #detective AU #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes smut

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kiss-me-muchoo · 1 year

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𝙏𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 ||𝙅𝙤𝙚𝙡 𝙈𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢! 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

「 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲: 𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 」 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 4

(𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙡𝙚)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮•𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙅𝙤𝙚𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮, 𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝙙𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙅𝙤𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙋𝙏𝙎𝘿, 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚. 𝘽𝙪𝙩, 𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮, 𝙞𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡. 𝙁𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙀𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙚, 𝙅𝙤𝙚𝙡, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩 𝙪𝙥. 𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙅𝙤𝙚𝙡 i𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣. 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨• 𝙋𝙏𝙎𝘿 𝙤𝙣 𝙅𝙤𝙚𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝘼𝙂𝙀 𝙂𝘼𝙋, 𝙨𝙚𝙭 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙪𝙥, 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘 (𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚), 𝙏𝙊𝙊 𝙈𝙐𝘾𝙃 𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙎𝙏, 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 97% 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 3% 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛, 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙅𝙤𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙪𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙄𝘿 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙤 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙, 𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙙𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙨𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣, 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙧 𝙘𝙤𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 + 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙞𝙨 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙄 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙, 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮. 𝙉𝙊 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙊𝙁𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝘼𝙉• 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚. 𝙤𝙢𝙜 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙏𝙚 𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙃𝙤𝙢𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙂, 𝙄 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙄'𝙈 𝘾𝙍𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘽𝙍𝘽.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚) (𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢.𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤𝙤)

♪ ♫ 𝙋𝙀𝘿𝙍𝙊 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 (𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩)

Winter wasn't your favorite season. Your lungs couldn't handle the cold very well, making you reach for inhalators and wake up your family at night. Your gasps would scare them thinking you would die at any moment.

Die… sounded good.

Things got more complicated in your head. Every day was complicated traveling with Joel and Ellie. But your mind was too drained to naturally heal after all the emotional trauma you had been through.

As the days passed after that morning in the motel with Sam and Henry, Ellie and Joel bonded better, you and Ellie bonded better, but you and Joel only grew more distant.

In the worst way, though…

On the last days of autumn, you cross paths with a river. Cristal clear, slightly warm, and secluded. Ellie took a quick shower and stormed out to cook something in the safe woods nearby.

Things took a different turn for you. Things led to another, and Joel was behind you minutes after you entered the water. Fucking you so hard that you sobbed while biting your own hand to stop you from screaming and catching Ellie's attention.

He didn't say anything. You didn't say anything, not even during the act. It was just like the first time he touched you back in the QZ of Boston, but different at the same time. All that could be heard were grunts and gasps on both occasions. But this time, you felt like you were being taken by a stranger.

Joel just got out of the river and left you there. With his cum sliding through your thighs and washing away with the water. Tears ran without warning, and you felt like a complete loser.

What were you thinking? That a fuck would make everything better? He just needed a release. It's been a month and a half since he touched you.

Remember, he doesn't love you, y/n.

Every time Ellie started talking with Joel, you were quiet. Only when Ellie included you in the conversation did you open your mouth.

Just like now, Joel wanted a ranch with a bunch of sheep. Fucking liar, he said he wanted a life with you, not sheep. Ellie wanted to go to space. What about y…

"And you, y/n?. What are you doing after this?…." you raised your gaze. You felt how uncomfortable Joel got with the question. Yet, deep down, he probably cared what your new plans were.

"I don't know…I want…" but you stood quiet because you couldn't have what you wanted. That house, that husband, that baby, would never happen to you.

"Sorry…" Ellie said, lowering her head. She couldn't blame you for always crying and being so delusional. In fact, she admired you because you were sane, after all.

"I'll find something…." you added, getting on your feet, trying to convince you with your own words. But, unfortunately, the little bonfire in the middle of the snow felt extremely far just by standing up, making you shiver, and holding your gun and bow tightly. "I'll go and check around one last time. A whistle is a warning, and a shot is an emergency, right?"

Ellie nodded, looking at the bow and arrows you stole from that old couple's cabin. While Joel just focused on the fire. A lot of things were going through his head in the last months. Something weakened him after being in Kansas City. He was getting more insecure day after day. He didn't know if he should fight for you or just let you go. He loved you, but he was so scared. All he ever wanted since the outbreak was to find some happiness, and when life got you for him, he realized he wanted a family with you.

But he was scared. He had his right to be afraid of, after all. He couldn't even say I love you back. But you weren't a robot. You were a human who needed to feel loved too, and he wasn't very good at it after your panic attack and almost suicide in Boston.

"So… Are you ever going to be cool with her again?" Ellie asked suddenly. Joel remembered they were still there in the middle of the snow. He cringed at the question.

"I don't know…." Ellie was surprised that he didn't answer with a mean brush-off. So the girl understood that Joel was seriously thinking about you. She was fond of him because she wanted you to be happy. She wanted you two together, and she wanted to stay. She wanted to belong, even if it was in her wildest dreams.

"She's being strong. But she's deeply fucked up, Joel…" you were getting better at shooting, at being a good survivor in general. But Ellie was right. If anything triggered you again, you were about to fall into a dark bottomless pit.

"You don't know her…" made Ellie jealous and mad. He wanted to have that closeness of trust you once shared with Joel. She didn't know of years like he did. But you two were girls. You got each other backs, and that pissed her of Joel.

"She told me things. And look, it's none of my business. But she deserves to be happy, Joel. And if I can't be there to see it, I just hoped you would do it." he didn't reply, and she didn't continue. So the bonfire died, and you came minutes later with a dead bunny in your hand.

You were getting used to sleeping alone again. And it felt right…

You never thought you would see any relative of Joel. But now you were seeing him and his brother together. Ellie sent you a little smile. Like she was trying to comfort you because she knew that you were also alone in the world, just like her.

However, your eyes wander across the whole town around you. It's like a dream…

The little stores, the lights, the people… you wished you could stay there.

The food was amazing. You tried to eat slowly, digest, and taste the food. But the sound of the forks of Ellie and Joel constantly distracted you.

Tommy and Maria could see from afar that you were slightly different from the other two. Always being polite and calm. Wisely advising Ellie and coldly helping Joel. But they also noticed the tension between the older man and you.

As Ellie patted the cute pony Shimmer, you focused on the tiny flowers growing on the grass all of you were stepping on.

Tommy and Maria stare at the way Joel analyzes your movements. They both question if you and Joel are something because the age gap is visible, but after the outbreak, an age gap wasn't any problem for a couple. For Tommy, it's almost as if he was seeing his brother in love…

So when Joel goes with his brother, and you start following Ellie and Maria, you don't notice Joel starting protectively, showing how much he wants to be near you.

And you want to turn and send him a comforting smile that you'll be fine.

But you don't…

"Girl, you have to let your hair down. It's screaming for it. You can't keep it on a braid for your whole life." you giggle. You can see that Maria likes you more than Ellie. You are quiet, smiley, open to help, and willing to listen to everyone. And Ellie is not. She knows it, but she doesn't care. She prefers to have someone like you around rather than being like you.

"I haven't worn it down in years…." Maria gasps. You feel her trimming your hair and are a little nervous about it. But after making you shower and come down to brush your hair. Ellie started rambling about it.

"Wow. You look like an entirely new person!" you blush at her words. Maria chuckles, making you stand up and walk to the nearest mirror.

"Oh god…" you whisper. Ellie was right. You looked like a completely different person. You looked better.

"Joel is going to like you more…" you turn abruptly to the girl, pointing at her nervously.

"Ellie, shut up!" Maria walks closer, and you can feel the questions coming.

"You don't have to answer, but. Are you and him a thing?" you find yourself sighing.

"Not anymore. I mean- I don't think we ever were a thing, but… I…" you stop because you don't know what else to say.

"You love him…." Maria says swiftly, and you nod, looking directly at her. Avoiding Ellie's gaze because you cringed at her listening to your problems.

"You might be young for him, but that's the least of the worries nowadays. He feels the same way about you, just by seeing him protecting you when we find you in the woods. He didn't protect her like he did with you" she means that Joel's way of protecting you was different from Ellie's. Which you never noticed before.

"Tommy had told me… Joel is hard. You must know what happened with his daughter…." you nod. "He's hard to read. But I bet you two had been through enough. He must know you completely. It's noticeable…."

Should I believe this woman? She knows what love is. She's taken, she's pregnant, she's even fucking part of the little communist government of the town… she's living the life you wanted. Being a family woman with erudite vibes.

At the time of dinner. You enter the little empty cafeteria along with Ellie. Joel is there with Tommy.

"Go to sit, and I'll get your food" you turn again to Maria. "I'll help you…."

"Okay…" the woman said, making you follow her further into the cafeteria.

Joel finally looks at you and feels like he's out of breath. You look different. He never saw you with your hair down before. It feels like the most significant thing for him. Like he was seeing you again for the first time. Like he was falling in love with you for the second time.

"Your girl's looking good," Tommy said, mocking his brother. You didn't turn to look at Joel or his brother. Instead, you just walked past them to join Maria in the kitchen. "She's not my girl… not anymore."

"You have a long way to cover. Things could change…." Joel stood quiet. Looking at you smile and giggle with Maria. Your beautiful hair makes him blush and keep his eye on you constantly.

His panic comes back after thinking you could stay in Jackson with him. Customize that house and make it yours. Try a couple months and have a baby. But he can't. He's too old, too broken for that. So he goes outside under the curious and worried look of his brother, Ellie, and you.

Just as you place two meals in the table, one for Ellie and one for you, you smile at the girl.

"I'll go with him. I won't take too long. Okay?…" she nods quietly. Because Ellie doesn't have the strength to go and watch for Joel. Ellie stays in her seat, ignoring Maria's look and focusing on Tommy's gaze fixed on you. He's probably wondering if you are a fantastic woman for his old brother. Ellie thinks it's correct. You are the kindest person she has ever met in her sad life.

At the same time, you find Joel leaning against the cafeteria entrance. You can't help but feel extremely scared, thinking he was having a heart attack or something.

"Joel… Are you okay?" your voice breaks the attack. But, of course, it had to be your sweet voice the one to save him. Joel starts breathing steadily and slowly, and he turns to see you. He hates himself for making you worry.

"Yes… I-, I'm okay, go back inside…" he doesn't need help. You are making him awkward. So you just walk back, slightly ashamed and hurt. “…y/n. Wait…”

You turn again, and he's giving you an unusual look. You hadn't seen Joel so anxious before, and lately, especially that day on Jackson, he looked remarkably absent.

"After this is over, you should stay here…" his statement confuses you. But he decides to add more. "You should stay here or go with Tommy to take Ellie."

"What?…" you question as you cross your arms. He's making decisions for you now?. Joel feels your proximity is dangerous, like the more he speaks, the more you're willing to punch his face. He had to accept that you were stronger now. It was you who always shot at most of the infected almost every night when you hunted dinner. And now you wanted to learn to use the bow and arrows.

"I think it's better. I'm failing-… I'm gonna get you or her killed at any time…" you sigh. Expressing how choleric you're getting.

"Look, Joel… I know you don't give a shit about us, but don't hide behind the excuse of you being old." without warning, you lean closer to him, and he can smell your anger. "Cause if that girl and I are alive, and here right now, it's because of you…."

"I do care. Especially for you…" as you look at some kids playing in the snow, you shrug. You won't cry in front of him again; you won't cry. But the knot in your throat is making it complicated.

"You fucked me in a river and left me without saying a word!. I've told you multiple times how I feel, and you're unable to correspond!" you didn't intend to cry, but your voice was exposing you. Joel closed his eyes like he was trying to avoid the memory. He was about to tell you that he loved you back that day. But you were clear before, you didn't want anything to do with love or family. When deep down, you were always going to wish for that. He was just as fucked up as you were, with insecurities and fears. Everything was a huge misunderstanding.

"I'm sorry about that…" he confessed. "I had to protect you better. And I'm just being horrible to you."

"Cut the shit, Joel. For fucks sake!. Stop it. I've had enough of this I need to protect you, I want to be with you, oh no, I'm not ready. You've suffered, I know, Joel. But I've been there too. And you know it…" the man looked at the snow. Trying to forget the memories of you all pale and on the verge of collapsing. Your shaking hands sank into the tub, so he had to wash and clean your hair as you sobbed. The memories became painful because he loved you so hard that it weakened him.

"You're being insecure because of your past. I've never judged you for that. I respect it. I know you're tired, but you can't leave Ellie alone. She needs us…." you want to say you need him. But he doesn't love you back. You can't include yourself.

"She needs you, y/n. I've seen you've gotten better. You can take her. And with Tommy, you two will be fine…" his stubbornness exasperated you. Making you groan, tired, and let all the anger he caused you out.

"Fine!. Leave us. But don't you ever dare to come back into my life again!" he feels his heart beating slowly again. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to let you go. So he gently grabs your forearm to turn you back, and as your chest brushes his, he kisses you.

You push him. Glaring at him in shock, his eyes are teary, and you are frozen, literally and metaphorically.

He watches you walk away, looking almost scared at him. Then, looking at your hair swaying and your boots pushing snow, he can hear you crying.

"Fuck…" he repeatedly curses, kicking ice blocks in the way. His head is throbbing with migraine, stress, and PTSD; he knows it.

What the fuck is he supposed to do? He doesn't want to let you go but doesn't even know his feelings. He just knows he's fucked up.

Somehow you feel like you failed Ellie. Maybe you never miss a shot to protect her. Perhaps you never let away anything that tried to hurt her. But you feel like you failed her by not coming back at dinner.

Joel was hurting you so much. And deep down, you knew that it wasn't his intention. He had traumas like you and was never good with words, so you couldn't blame him. You just wanted everything to stop.

Things were changing. It felt different like everything was getting more emotional than intended.

Ellie and Joel were your family. And you were losing them.

Ellie stormed into the house. She looked at you curled into the window, fresh out of the shower and looking depressed.

"He's ditching us. After all, that old bastard is dumping us!" she yelled, startling you. You closed your eyes, avoiding her gaze. This is what you feared.

"You knew it…." she's disappointed in you. You can't tell, but you feel like that. She's crying. You're crying. After some silence, she just goes upstairs, leaving you alone.

No matter what. You always end up alone. Everyone has to leave you for some reason.

Don't waste this opportunity, big brother. You're lucky, and you don't appreciate it.

Tommy made Joel accept that he has the right to love again. He's old and tired, but he can have a family again. He can smile again if he wants.

Joel is going where the wind takes him… and you. If Tommy took Ellie to the fireflies, Joel could find a home for you two. He felt terrible for leaving the girl, but it was the best for her. It was the best for everyone.

It tore him to let Ellie like that in the room. He knew he was hurting her. But he wanted the best for her.

And then he finds you on the stairs of the porch. Arms hugging your legs face hiding between. Then, slowly, he walked outside. You were sniffing, rocking yourself in the way.

The wood creaked, startling you. You turn to see Joel standing there. He had a doleful expression. He's broken, hopeless, just like you are…

Your red and swollen eyes look at the front house while you feel Joel sitting beside you.

Your lost gaze makes him sigh.

"What are we doing?" He asks tiredly. You shrug, feeling the cold air blowing as you take a deep breath.

"Days ago… I told Ellie I would find something to do with my life. But…" he turns to look at you. Your hands are freezing, but you don't care. "I look at the sky, and I-, I just don't know what else to wish for…."

His arms immediately go to wrap around you. You feel at home with your hands hugging his neck tightly and your temple brushing his patchy beard.

"I don't know what to do. All these months without you-… I've missed you so much," he admitted. "I miss you too."

"I'm so lost, y/n. I feel like I'm not capable. All these nightmares and panic I've been feeling. It's like I can't get away from this hole… Sarah-shaped hole" you find his hand and hold it tightly. Which he appreciates. Because he needs help, he's about to be totally honest with you. "Oh, Joel…"

"I know I love you. I want you. I want to be yours. I-, Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" The cute pout on your face is the first thing that makes Joel form a big and honest smile. He knows that's all you wanted to hear. If he wanted to keep his girl by his side, he would put considerable efforts by demonstrating love. He can't change his past. His daughter was gone. She was gone a long time ago. But Joel was there yet, and you too.

"An apology won't be enough to express how much I'm sorry for what I did in the river. I was a coward. I was about to tell you that I wanted you. But… after what you said in Kansas, I…" even in the apocalypse, love was complicated. Like love in the times of cholera. He was confused. It wasn't getting toxic; it was just complicated. That's all…

"I appreciate it for you being honest. But still, I feel that if we're trying this again… we have to communicate, Joel. "

"You're right. I don't want to hurt you ever again. So from now on, we're in this together. I protect you, you protect me. I trust you, you trust me. And I'm willing to… trying to do this like the old times" you raise your brows, looking at him surprised. "Like. You're taking me on dates and writing me poems?"

"Shut up. I'm being serious…" he ends up giggling some seconds later. And it's like magic, hearing Joel's laugh after months. It's a blessing.

"I might not be able to say it too often. But I'll try. But don't doubt that my feelings for you are real." You want to take it slow this time. Business first, emotions then…

"It's okay. I just need to know you're here. That you won't leave me alone…." Joel realized that it must've been tough for you to hear him say he was leaving you.

"I'm never leaving you. And I'm never letting you go again…" he promised to hold you again. So you stayed like that for some minutes. Until you spoke again…

"Why did you change your mind?…." you asked him. He said he thought it was better for you to take Ellie and stay in Jackson. Oh, Ellie…

"Tommy. The bastard was beyond honest. But he was right. Life stopped from me on the outbreak day, but I can't waste this second chance…" life stopped from you in June of 2021. But you were young; you never knew what life was before the infection. So you were happy to take the crumbs Joel was giving you. And now that you know you deserve more, you are pleased to enter a new chapter with him.

"So now what?…." you don't want to leave Ellie. You don't even want to let her go with the fireflies. You want to keep her and give her an everyday life. But there was no other option.

"I know you don't want to leave her alone," he said neither. But nevertheless, he cared for the girl.

"We can do it, Joel. I'm not sick anymore. You won't do it all alone. We just take her there, and we're done. We find that fucking home and we stay there until we rot" he's not hesitating. He accepts Ellie has the right to choose. And it wasn't okay what they said to each other before.

"You heard?" you nod at his question. Their little argument was the cause of your second time crying of the day.

"You're not her father, Joel. And I'm not her mother-, or sister. But she needs us." his hand is interlocking with yours. And it feels different. This time you can feel Joel is letting himself go. "If things had turned out differently. You wouldn't have wanted her to have someone by her side?"

"Don't…" he says softly. And when you turn, his eyes are teary again. Again, you find it very surprising seeing him so vulnerable, almost bizarre. "She would've had Tommy…."

"Joel, stop blaming yourself for the past. You did everything you could to save her; I know you have done bad things. But the man I fell in love with is beyond good. You're-, you're the man my father would've always wanted for me," Joel freezes. Of course, he would never tell you that he threw your parent's corpses into the fire. But he feels flattered, so he kisses your hair instead.

"Maybe he would've wanted a younger man," you sigh with a smile. Tess once told you that Joel wouldn't be there to protect you forever, but he was still there with you.

"Maybe he would've been grateful to see his daughter having an amazing man by her side. Willing to protect her even when she's an annoying crybaby."

"You are a crybaby…." you punch his arm playfully. He traps you harder in his arms.

"I've had plenty of motives to be so…" he nods. Not judging you, not even a little.

"Hey. Did I tell you how pretty you look with your hair down?" You look at him, shocked to hear him saying things like that.

"Joel Miller complimenting me?. I'm gonna start believing you were serious with the dates and the poems…" when he stays quiet, a little laugh comes out of you. His face was red as a beetroot. "Oh my… You weren't kidding?, Joel, that's super adorable."

"Stop it. This is so stupid…" your giggles make him feel embarrassed. "Okay. But thank you. I didn't let my hair down since I turned… like 19" for some seconds; Joel wants to know everything about you. But, of course, he knew everything from you from 2021 to now. But before that, you were a mystery to him. "Keep it like that. I like it…."

"Thanks…" you remember Ellie right after thanking him. You know the subject, it's on his head too. "So. We're doing it, Joel?"

"I guess so. If this is the price to pay for a peaceful life with you. Then yeah… we're doing it," you smile. Grabbing his cold cheeks, you lean to kiss him. For the first time in months, you two are kissing. It's heated and passionate. Wet and messy, it's perfect. "I'll ask her in the morning…."

This time was gonna be different.

"Come in…" you hear Ellie say. The room she stayed in for the night was pretty. Very similar to the one you had as a little kid. The girl is sitting with her things ready. She's sad.

"Did you sleep well?" She nods, giving you a stern look. While she also wonders why you are wearing clothes as of you were ready to leave. "I'll go straight to the point. I'm sorry, Ellie. I didn't say anything because Joel was leaving me too."

"Was?" You nod, and she sighs. "So what?. You're here to say goodbye?"

"No. I talked with him yesterday. He's not gonna apologize, but he's gonna ask you to choose if you really want him to take you or not" she finally looks at you.

"What about you?" Ellie wants to beg you to go with them. She only trusts Joel and you. You were the only one that completely understood her. Who wasn't afraid to be touchy or emotional.

"I won't leave you. Joel won't say it, but he cares for you. And me too, we care for you. I don't want you to end up alone," she throws herself at you. Instantly you accept her hug and pat her head. After all, she's just a girl. She's lost and needs someone to rely on.

"I'm sorry for making you felt guilty yesterday. It wasn't your fault…." Ellie accepts your smile while she cringes at herself. You were so good with her, and she goes and adds more stress to your post-traumatic life.

"It's okay… remember what Maria said. You have to know who you trust" you try to make her understand that she has her right to doubt.

"Now. Don't tell Joel about this." She nods happily. "Ready?".

Tommy knocks, and after greeting you, Ellie walks past him to go downstairs.

"Maria told me to give you back this…" he hands your bow and arrow. Which surprises you. After taking it and placing it on your back, you thank him.

"I'm glad Joel has you in his life…" he says honestly. You look at him with perplexed eyes. "He can be a pain in the ass, but…."

"He's a good man…." you finish chuckling. Then, Tommy joins you, making you feel welcome. You're lucky that his family likes you.

When you arrive at the barn, Joel asks Ellie to choose. Not even 3 seconds later, Ellie is on a horse with the man, which makes you smile.

"So Maria gave her the bow and arrows back, but we can't have our guns?" Tommy laughed. Patting at the horse he gave you, it was white, named Star.

"What can I say? Maria liked her…." Joel's brother said, pointing at you. "If you ever decide to come back. She might even take you to her council."

"I'd love that…." you say excitedly. Joel wondered if they should return to Jackson after delivering Ellie.

"Take care of my brother…" he adds. You nod in response.

Joel had saved you. Now it was your turn to return the favor.

The following days are surprisingly good. You feel like a teenager in love. Sleeping in the same sleep bag with Joel again, both teasing the shit out of each other in silence after Ellie had fallen asleep. Him sending you short smiles every once in a while during the days. Disguised dirty jokes that set your cheeks on fire, and Ellie being the comfort you need.

Now you're laughing at Joel's cheeky smile. He looked so silly. Being proud of himself for perfectly shooting with the rifle and Ellie being jealous was funny.

"If you're an expert, go ahead and try to shoot at those things. But, with the bow…." you stopped laughing and looked at the pair of individuals sending you bad looks for laughing at them.

"That bow is one of the hardest things I've ever gripped in my life. So so heavy…."

"Not for me…." you say, sending a naughty little smirk to Joel. He chuckled, avoiding your eyes, understanding your disguised joke. His arrogant smile grows.

"Then go ahead…" how she defied you was hilarious. Giggling, you get on your knees and lean. Joel and Ellie watch you accommodate the bow and place an arrow. In silence, you point at the target Ellie named asshole, and seconds later, you hit it. The arrow is embedded in the right corner of the target. You send a cocky smile to Ellie, but she rolls her eyes.

"You didn't hit the s's," she states, crossing her arms. You raise your eyebrow, and Joel just chuckles.

"I can help you…." the man says, getting close to you. He gets behind you, and sneakily, you feel his right hand groping you leeringly. Ellie doesn't notice it, and your smile teases back. His hands reach yours to help you point the bow.

"You need to hold it like this…" he's not teaching you anything. He's just taking the opportunity to touch and tease you. He likes how you sigh after feeling his cold breath on your ear and neck.

"Like this?" You ask in a tone that could be interpreted as suggestive. You feel his hard length behind you. Even with all the layers of clothes, you can feel him.

"You guys are disgusting…." Ellie spits, pretending she's throwing up. She's not dumb, she can tell when Joel is sending you inappropriate looks, and you reply to them.

"He's just helping me with my aiming, Ellie," she shrugs. "Yeah, I bet he knows plenty of ways to aim."

"Okay! Just… shoot," Joel says abruptly, warning Ellie to stop. You giggle, turning to the target again. And with the help of Joel's hands, the second arrow brushes the first s in the word. The three of you are surprised.

"Wow. I didn't trust myself with this…" you say happy. Ellie claps sarcastically. "Bravo. And sorry for doubting. Now let's go, it's getting late, and I want to eat."

"Sure, queen" Ellie knows you're mocking her. So she just lets out a fake laugh and keeps walking.

"I'm proud of you…." Joel says, kissing your cheek and standing up. He offers his hand to stand you up, and you gladly take it.

Things couldn't be happy forever. You know it after hiding behind a bush when a bunch of men appeared in the abandoned university. You stayed back because Joel thought it was hushed to be surrounded by fireflies, so he made you keep an eye outside.

Then you see the pair coming back to you through the back of one of the buildings. And before you can reach one of the horses, the gang of men is behind you. scared, you start pulling out the first thing you can reach to protect the girl and the man running towards you.

While Joel can get rid of one of the men, Ellie tries to shoot. You start untying the horses when you hear Ellie's loud gasp. The girl looks at you worried, and that's when you see Joel's stomach.

"No!. Don't take that shit out!" You scream, but Joel has removed the piece piercing his stomach. After seeing all the blood coming out, you whine in awe holding his hands on the wound. Both pairs of hands getting wet with blood. The rest of the men are coming, and you fucking need to leave. "Shit…"

"Okay. We have to go!" Both listen and get on the brown horse. While you can get rid of two men with the bow. As you start leaving, Ellie keeps shooting. But you're only thinking about Joel, watching how he gripped the rein, praying that he lasted a little longer.

"Fuck!" You yell, galloping away. The panic comes back. Joel is gonna be okay; you can take care of his wound.

After getting on the road, the snow gets dense, and the cold increases. You have asked Ellie to keep Joel awake.

"Joel!" you scream, devastated when you see him falling from the horse.

"Fuck” Ellie gasps as both of you jump to the snow and run to grab him.

He's pale, and your eyes are blurry. You know Ellie is saying something to him, but you can't hear anything. Instead, you hear a high pitch, and your hands shake as you reach to feel his pulse.

Your world stops as you see his blood pressure decrease. He promised he wouldn't leave you alone. He fucking promised.

"Y/n?…" you don't answer Ellie. But you know she's scared as much as you are.

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

If he doesn't wake up, you're taking Ellie. You'll bury him and then take Ellie.

Have some hope, y/n.

But if he doesn't wake up, you will volunteer for the fireflies to experiment with you. Because you don't want to depend on Joel, but if you're not living the life you deserve with him, you don't want anything.

____________________________________

Taglist: @aonungs-tsahik @buckysmainhxe @amethystwonders11 @kyuupidwrites @bookfrog242 @acornacreacure @enbywan @ipadkidsworld @my-obsession-spn @happycupcakeenthusiast @thesameoldboo @spideysimpossiblegirl @tubble-wubble @flightlexsbird @randomstory56 @memento-mora @royalty-cashinout @ayamenimthiriel @eddies-bat-tattoos @kassieesworld @damnzelsoul @floffytofu @issybee0611 @rhyanna6012 @floralsightings @wanniiieeee

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedrohub #pedro pascal

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cannibalthoughts · 11 months

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Pezmuerto’s “Goldfish”

[ID: Señora Pezmuerto during We Don’t Talk About Bruno, carrying a fishbowl containing nothing but water and a dead goldfish. End ID.]

Problem: goldfish aren't native to Colombia, so either there's an invasive species in the river, someone brought a pet goldfish to the Encanto and it survived the journey, or Pezmuerto didn't have a goldfish.

Since WDTAB happens in Mirabel Vision TM, the visual details like the dead fish's species and Pezmuerto carrying it in a fishbowl are suggestions instead of solid canon. I’m picking option three: she had some other kind of fish.

[ID: Bruno sitting on the floor of Antonio’s bedroom, hunched over and wiggling his fingers in front of him while saying, “Oh, he’s creepy and his vision killed my goldfish.” End ID.]

The thing about this line is that “goldfish” is a really natural thing to call a fish. That’s in Spanish, too; one of the names for goldfish in Spanish (the main name on the Wikipedia page) is “pez dorado.” Exact same thing.

And why should anyone in the Encanto reserve that description for a species of fish that doesn’t live there? This is an isolated town where no one can visit an aquarium or zoo, or see unfamiliar animals on TV. Unless someone happens to have brought goldfish artwork or an illustrated book about aquarium fish with them when they arrived in the Encanto, there’s a good chance a lot of people don’t know what a goldfish looks like.* Wide open linguistic space for them to look at a gold fish and go, “Well. That’s a gold fish.”

(In the Spanish subs, the line is "Bruno provoca cosas malas. Es rarito y su visión mató a mi pez," which doesn't specify the type of fish at all.)

Also: maybe Bruno’s just really bad at IDing fish. “All fish are the same” says man with several dozen rats he swears aren’t identical.

Anyway, I looked up gold fish that could be native to Encanto’s waters.

The Encanto is formed beside the bank of a river based on the real Caño Cristales, which is a tributary of the Guayabero River, so I decided to base the river life off of that.

Option A: Leporinus boehlkei, from page 155 of this book on Research Gate about biodiversity in Meta:

[ID: Labeled photo of a Leporinus boehlkei fish. It is long and narrow, gold with black spots. Its pectoral, pelvic, and anal fins are mostly yellow and its dorsal fins and tail are mostly clear. End ID.]

Leporinus boehlkei is endemic to Colombia, lives in streams and mid-sized tributaries like we see present in the Encanto, and was only named as an independent species distinct from other Leporinus in 1988. I thought the last bit was interesting because it opens a window for an unfortunately named fish enthusiast to find one and get excited because it looks different from the fish most similar to it. It’s about 6-19 cm long, which is reasonable for a pet fish. I didn’t find much behavioral information, but other members of the genus are omnivorous and adapt well to fish food. Which leads to:

Option B: Leporinus fasciatus, which the Encanto residents would call a mije.

[ID: A Leporinus fasciatus in an aquarium tank. It is long and narrow, bright yellow that tints orange-gold toward its head and thick black bands. Its fins are a mix of yellow and gray. End ID.]

It grows up to 30 cm but reaches maturity at half that, native (but not endemic) to Colombia and present in the Guayabero River specifically, and it’s somewhat popular as an aquarium fish because of its coloration, its adaptability to fish food, and its ability to be kept in a tank with other fish. (Popular enough that it became an invasive species in Florida and, in the past, Hawai’i.) Also, it can jump when startled and needs to be kept in a tank with a strong lid, which is A Quality in a fish that’s doomed by the narrative. Bonus: it’s very easy to take mije and switch to very fondly calling a fish mija/mijo.

---

* Since Mirabel Vision TM does depict a goldfish, I actually think it would be fun if someone did have some sentimental goldfish art. They show it to Mirabel, who is demonstrably good at getting emotional stories out of people. They don’t show it to Bruno, because he’s Bruno.

#Shoutout to slingerapen who pointed out goldfish aren't native to Colombia and is the reason this post exists #If you're thinking of using one of your free JSTOR articles on that 1988 Garavello paper please be advised it's mostly fish math

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capitaletele · 18 days

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I saw this post about the real story behind the concept of "Stockholm Syndrome" and it made me think about Cristal going through what Kristen Enmark did instead of the romanticized version Berger wrote about (which, you know, fair enough, it was based on the mainstream understanding of the idea at the time.)

Enmark is the young woman who was first "diagnosed" with Stockholm Syndrome after bonding with her kidnappers because she was more afraid of the police and authorities' incompetent/erratic behaviour than she was of her captors (and saying so publicly once she got out.) She was then "diagnosed" by the psychologist who consulted on the hostage situation and made a mess of it, without him ever actually interviewing her.

And so of course, I'm thinking about Cristal being actually kidnapped. She probably thinks Johnny is attractive but she doesn't run away with him, the Etoiles Noires grab her and forcibly take her to the hangar. And then the government (with the help of Zéro's private militia of course) basically besiege the tunnels trying to "get her out" -- only of course, it would look better for Zéro's campaign if something unfortunate happened to her at the hands of her evil captors, because that would definitely turn public opinion to him and his totalitarian security measures.

And so, "Cristal trapped inside the hangar with frightening terrorists" becomes "Cristall slowly bonding with the Etoiles Noires while the people who are supposed to be rescuing her directly/indirectly work to get her killed."

And Sadia's there in the middle, being ambiguous and inscrutable as always :p

I'm also thinking about the quote by hostage-taker Olsson, about why they developed a relationship with the hostages:

"It was the hostages’ fault. They did everything I told them to do. If they hadn’t, I might not be here now. Why didn’t any of them attack me? They made it hard to kill. [The authorities] made us go on living together day after day, like goats, in that filth. There was nothing to do but get to know each other."

So like, imagine a violent Johnny whose plan was definitely to take Cristal with him and kill her for whatever reason, and who resentfully realizes he can't anymore because he's gotten to know her and he actually likes her now (as opposed to just finding her hot.)

And when it becomes clear to him that the authorities aren't working to free her safely at all (in the real situation, Enmark actually got the Swedish Prime Minister on the phone and he basically told her "You're going to die for the cause, sorry") Johnny starts protecting her, not only from the other Etoiles Noires but also from the outside.

And Cristal is protecting Johnny and the Etoiles Noires in turn, because it has become very clear to her that contrary to what everyone is saying on tv, the point is not to get them alive at all, and that in fact it might be better for the authorities if there were no survivors to tell the tale of what actually went down.

So Cristal starts using her neutron camera to send pirate broadcasts to reveal the truth about her situation and how the Etoiles Noires are treating her.

And in the process, she also starts reporting on what's been going on in the underground levels, which doesn't usually make it into the media. I like to imagine have been sort of abandonned by the government, maybe because the police/army has been trying to get rid of the Etoiles Noires but the population of the underground has been protecting them/refusing to give them up, so the government started punishing them by cutting off services in the blocks where the EN operate. People lost access to running water, to electricity, to food supply... But the media and government have denied it, so when Cristal shows the truth, people are shocked.

And of course the mainstream media is running its own messaging, about how Cristal has lost the plot, how she's gone and fallen in love with Johnny like a stupid girl, how they brainwashed or drugged her into it, etc. [Cue "Les parents de Cristal."]

And so Cristal radicalizes and rallies to the Etoiles Noires, and she and Johnny figure out a plan to get everyone out safely, and then... I don't know what happens :p Some kind of "they're both alive" resolution, because I am me! But how??? Damned if I know.

#not!fic #starmania fic #cristal #johnny rockfort #this is the kind of story i WISH i could write #the 30k of plotty slow burn #sadly i know my limitations #maybe i'll write a scene or something at some point #but i still wanted to get the idea out

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moonchild-in-blue · 1 year

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A Cottagecore Adventure - part 1

(choose your own adventure)

It's morning. You're in your forest cottage, and another day awaits you. The sun is shining, your linen clothes are light and comfortable. The cottage is small but cozy, a delicious smell of wood and herbs fills the air.

You're in the combined kitchen/living room open space. The kitchen has big windows behind the sink, a small stove/oven, and cabinets with delicate china, various glass jars and peculiar metal boxes. The labels read different types of tea, spices, flours, and there are multiple dried herb bundles coming down from the ceiling.

The living room has an unlit fireplace in the corner. A soft-looking couch sits in front of it, and there are a few bookshelves with interesting, well-read books.

You can see from the kitchen windows that there's a clearing behind the cottage, full of flowers and fruit trees. The sun shines through the leaves, softly illuminating the forest. You can hear the stream nearby.

AH OKAY I kind of wanted to make one of these choose-your-own-adventure type of polls, but like super low-stakes and cozy? Is this even interesting? All parts will be under "cottage cyoa poll"

#if you have any suggestions please do say so!#cottage cyoa poll #cottagecore #polls #tumblr polls #my polls

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books-and-cookies · 2 years

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You are hiking up a mountain, through the forest. It is early in the day, and still a little chilly, the ferns are covered in dew. Beads of cristal droplets blinking in the rays of sun making their way through the dark green canopy.

You follow the sounds of a riverine, stepping out into a clearing. The sun hits you, warms you, embraces you. You hear the noise of bees swarming in the yellow and pink flowers covering the opening in the forest, down to the little stream. The smell of warm wood and cold water reaches you.

This is the feeling I get whenever I see you.

#manifestingaloveletter

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 okay this is lovely. Thank you ❤️❤️

#mary answers stuff #anonymous #i cry

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berrydiva · 17 days

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: 2 Antique Ruby Red Glass Ball Stem Water Goblets Cristal D'Arque Wine stemware.

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las113062 · 7 months

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Cristal D'Arques-Durand Junon Clear Water Goblets.

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an-aura-about-you · 7 months

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I'm just gonna stop and appreciate UFOs and what's going on with Didier now that I've reached the first episode of the second half of season 1:

-he was kidnapped by a government official -he met up with his assistant Marcel at a drag club where they're hiding a cult leader who wanted to run away from his cult -Marcel was able to guess where Didier hid the tape the gov. official wants without even trying (in good ol' fashioned "You wouldn't be stupid enough to hide it there" manner.) -while Didier was trying to find a new hiding place for the tape he found a message for a rendezvous that's like right the fuck now -on his way out he found out he was cleared by the investigation on the Cristal rocket explosion and also he will never be put on the project he wants because that's being offered to his ex-wife

I'm not even halfway through with the episode and didn't even mention Vera's theory about how the pond full of shoes Remy found was the water of the pond being turned INTO shoes and now they've been turned back into water.

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kiarazuri · 1 year

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Chapter 3: JJ

Crescent City is supposed to be the Crawfish Capital of the World but as Jordan James “JJ” Buchanan-Cristales (28M, he/him) walks down Bonbon Street for the hundredth time since arriving, he becomes more and more certain it’s actually the Candy Capital instead. Every time he walks down the beautiful yellow-brick, pedestrian boulevarde, JJ sees something new in the ever-changing window displays: a new flavor in the elaborate, ceiling-high chocolate bar towers, or a new, architecturally marvellous pastry statue (one day a pirate ship and the next a helicopter or an accurately phallic recreation of Dizzey’s Atlantica,) or a new, seven-foot-tall, self-sitting gummy bear that was not there the day before. JJ stopped and stared at that one a solid ten minutes before moving on. And he’s found himself stopping more and more often as the days go by, sometimes even pressing his face against the glass to get a better look. None of them have gone inside the stores yet though. AJ doesn’t trust the DuCiels not to poison their customers—he thinks the CC Hunters are right to suspect them. Eya hasn’t really left the hotel room. And JJ . . . well JJ knows if he did, his mouth would be watering uncontrollably and he’d buy everything in sight—he can’t really be trusted around food. Watching customers exit the shops munching on their gains without being able to eat any has been pure, unmitigating torture. Maybe JJ could go inside just this once and buy Eya a snack. Maybe one of the new mango and chili dark chocolate bars stacked in the shape of the Leaning Tower. JJ takes a step towards the shop-door. “Don’t even think about it,” AJ warns, snapping a photo. JJ turns away from the leaning chocolate tower to follow the lens of AJ’s camera. It’s pointed north, towards the perfect blue sky, with a focus on the Patisserie’s signage and the factory’s smoke stacks in the background. The afternoon sun directly overhead beautifully illuminates both the street and the writing on the stacks’ sides. DuCiel Confectionarie is . . . oddly shaped, to say the least. Their first few days in Crescent City they got lost multiple times while trying to scope it out—not because the layout is convoluted, but because it doesn’t make sense. It should be nothing more than a simple square, with Bonbon Street running through the center to make it a sharp U shape, but . . . JJ swore the structures were moving. Neither Eya nor AJ believed him when he said it the first time. But thanks to AJ’s stake-out photos it soon became clear that JJ was right and the others should listen to him more. Those smoke stacks? Two days ago they were behind the Gum…merie (is that what the Gummy Shop is called? JJ wonders) three store-fronts down. And now here they are. Adding to the mystery of what the hell kind of supe the DuCiel family could be. None of them have any idea what kind of supernatural creatures . . . move buildings? How do you even research for that? Since confirming JJ’s theory, they’ve been taking daily photos of the factory, hoping against hope to find some sort of pattern so they can predict the next day’s layout. So far, no luck. AJ brandishes the picture at JJ, zooming in on the text on the smoke stacks. It’s not a language JJ recognizes. He can’t even tell if it’s alphabetic or logographic. Neither brother says what they’re thinking, too aware of the risks of speaking their theories in enemy (especially supernatural) territory. Instead, AJ nods towards the fountain at the center of the street. “I’m gonna take some photos from there.” The fountain is about 20 feet from where they stand and the path between them and it is devoid of people. JJ rubs his temple, and nods. This case has been exhausting and he’s ready to sit and rest for a moment. The world, however, has other plans. Bonbon Street has archways situated every few feet over the boulevarde, each one made of beautiful wrought iron and twisted into alphabetic words JJ doesn’t know. The brothers are just about to pass under one when a caw above their heads has them glancing up. Eya’s familiar is perched along the arch, the raven camouflaged amongst a murder of crows. Chora flicks their head to the side, to a small alley JJ’s never noticed before, set snugly between the Boulangerie and Confiserie just on the other side of the archway. The alley has a small, wrought-iron gate set just a few feet back from the shop walls. A gate that’s being shoved open by a— Sludge monster? “Ew,” JJ announces without even meaning to, gagging at the disgustingly viscous fluid—plasma?—something covering the person from head to toe. “Hold up,” AJ says, glancing past the sludge monster. “Where does that alley lead?” The words are barely out of AJ’s mouth before the answer is screaming in both of their heads. The Factorie. They glance furtively at each other. Until now, they’d yet to find a way inside: the only on-record entrances are a small dock on the river and the Main Entrance at the end of Bonbon Street (which is, technically, a cul de sac). And suddenly the two brothers are moving again, in perfect sync, stepping closer to the DuCiel—because, if the sludge monster came out of the factory than they have to be a DuCiel—with the intent to get past and through the gate before it closes. JJ’s so focused on the closing gate, it’s iron hinges moving almost in slow-motion as he watches, that he doesn’t see the betrayal coming. One second he’s side-stepping the sludge-covered DuCiel and the next AJ’s hand is shoving at his shoulder and he’s slamming straight into them. The DuCiel’s scream squelches against JJ’s chest. AJ’s laughter is soft and diabolical. Oh, you piece of—this was my favorite shirt! Before JJ can react, he glances over the DuCiel’s head to where the gate has undoubtedly closed by now—and does a double-take. The gate’s gone. The entire alleyway is gone. Godfuckingdamnit. JJ glances at AJ with the intention of passing him a look but his brother’s expression is dark and brooding—contemplative. He shakes his head almost imperceptibly and JJ takes the hint, returning his attention to the situation at hand, er, chest. He takes a deep, calming breath before gently placing his hands on what he thinks are the DuCiel’s sludge-covered shoulders and peeling them off him. It’s like peeling a soggy towel off a locker-room floor. The scent of the sludge finally registers in JJ’s nose. He gags. What the fuck?! “Oh holy fudgeballs! I’m so fudging sorry—” With half the sludge now on JJ, it’s easier to see the DuCiel’s face. It’s contorted in horror and staring at JJ’s chest like it’s a portent of doom. Their words are self-chastizing and apologetic and JJ tries to hear them, he does, but he’s also kinda… enthralled by the DuCiel’s eyes. They’re a deep, deep brown, almost black, and even panicked and frenzied as they are now, those dark depths gleam like moonlight on water. Their eyelashes are long and thick and coated with sludgy dew-drops but underneath the hair is pure black to match the only part of the DuCiel still miraculously undefiled—the gorgeous, thick black dreads twirled high into a beehive-like bun. The yellow sludge stops just short of their hairline to reveal a patch of the DuCiel family’s signature dark brown skin (which JJ is sure is perfectly smooth, as all the other DuCiels they’ve seen have been) but covers what JJ is pretty sure is a handsome face, judging by the lines and what he’s seen of the rest of the family. If only the sludge weren’t in the way. As if on cue, the DuCiel moves their arm in time with another hasty apology and a glob of the nasty stuff detaches from their arm. It lands with a splat! on the yellow-brick road. What is this, anyway? The smell is disgusting. Poison? Ingredient in a magic potion? “I will obviously—“ as the DuCiel talks, a glob of the sludge gets in their mouth. They gag, but keep going, resolutely continuing their sentence. “—compensate you.” Not poison. Curiosity finally getting the better of him, JJ dips a finger into the mess on his chest and brings it to his lips. AJ and the DuCiel realize at the same time. Their faces fall and they lunge for him, screaming “NOOOOOOOOOO!” in slow-motion like they’re in an Action flick and he’s about to get shot. Too late. The taste is so unexpected that at first JJ doesn’t even gag. The first emotion to wrack his body is confusion. It’s only after that initial reaction that he gags, sticking his tongue out like getting it out of his mouth will save him. “Wha tha helth ith thith?” What the hell is this? JJ asks, trying not to bite his tongue. The DuCiel’s face is twisted in disgust. “Mustard custard.” JJ gags. Again. AJ bursts into laughter, no longer trying to keep his amusement to himself. “Whyyyy~?“ JJ whines. “A cousin made it. For the rhyme but also for a new vol au vent flavor.” JJ pulls back his tongue and starts smacking his lips to try to diffuse the taste. “Those ‘80s things they made on Great Bake-Off? With the pastry containers?” The DuCiel blinks owlishly at him for a moment before their mouth turns up in a smile. They nods. “If you like GBO you’ve definitely come to the right place.” They spread their arms as if showing off the world around them. JJ can’t help but agree. “This place is a sugar-coated dream,” JJ’s mouth turns down as he looks the custard over. “But this, is not.” The DuCiel grimaces. “The name’s Lottie DuCiel, son of Sucre. Pronouns are he/him. I’d shake your hand but I think I’ve gotten enough mess on you for one day,” Lottie says, eyeing the custard on JJ’s shirt like it personally offended him. “Jordan James, but everyone calls me JJ. This’s my brother AJ. Pronouns both he/him.” AJ waves, eyeing Lottie’s custard covered hands wearily. “Pleasure to meet you.” “Pleasure to meet you,” Lottie replies. “Listen, I’ve got to get this nastiness off me ASAP but you’ve gotta let me pay you back for your shirt. I’m in charge of The Cakerie. As an ‘I’m sorry,’ I’m giving you a week of free samples—I promise my flavors aren’t as disastrous as this. “A week? Of free samples?” JJ asks, wide-eyed. AJ’s mouth flops like a gold-fish. “Yep! Just make sure you come in before noon cuz that’s when I go home for the day.” “Dope,” JJ grins. “Offer starts tomorrow, hope to see you then.” Cake and a cute man? “Oh, I’ll definitely be there.” Lottie smiles, white teeth gleaming along with his eyes. “It’s a date.” JJ waits till Lottie DuCiel has crossed the street and entered a new alleyway—an alleyway that hadn’t been there before!—opened the gate, and disappeared inside before turning to his brother. AJ’s side-eyeing him warily. “You are so dead.” AJ smirks, and glances back at the alleyway. His smirk falls. When JJ looks back, the alleyway is gone. Again. “Shit,” JJ snarls, grinding his teeth. It takes all his willpower not to say what he’s thinking out loud. If the DuCiels can so effortlessly move entire pieces of their factory, make things appear and disappear at will without anyone being the wiser… then it’d be easy for them to hide evidence They may very well be the murderers. Chora caws above them and flies off before the brothers even have a chance to look up. “Welp, guess that’s our cue to leave.” A weird combination of anxiety (over possibly having a date with a murderer) and anticipation (over certainly having a date with a cute man) swirl inside JJ’s gut. “Until tomorrow.”

To Be Continued in Chapter 4 💗

#me #mine #the chocolate trickerie #charlotte and the chocolate trickerie #tct chapter 3 #catct chapter 3 #my writing #chapter 3

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