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sundrop-writes · 2 days ago

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Break The Brake

Dom!Maggie Rhee x Sub!Fem!Reader x Sub!Glenn Rhee

I want some more, I want some more - yeah.

Gimme some more, gimme some more - yeah.

Summary:

Maggie has a lot to deal with in life right now - she's the (unofficial) leader of The Hilltop, trying to take care of an entire community, and at the same time dealing with their whiny ousted ex-leader, all while in the early stages of her pregnancy, growing a person inside of her - and somehow, all of the stress makes her hornier than ever.

Luckily, you and Glenn are always there when she needs the two of you.

Or - Maggie fucks you and Glenn in Gregory's bed because he pissed her off.

Dom!Maggie Rhee x Sub!Fem!Reader x Sub!Glenn Rhee. Established Poly Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during Season 7 (Glenn Lives AU).

Word Count: 10,900

The Walking Dead Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This is an AU of Season 7 (or even of Season 8, because it's after Negan is jailed, but whatever) - Glenn lives, and I did not specifically mention Abraham dying, so you can imagine that he lived too if you want to - Negan is in jail and all the communities, including what's left of the Saviors, are now living in peace; Glenn, Maggie, and the reader are all in an established poly relationship - at this point in the series, Glenn and Maggie would have been 'married', so the reader is a part of that marriage as well (and though I didn't explicitly state it in the fic, I imagine that the reader goes by the last name Rhee as well); this is during the part of the timeline when Maggie was pregnant (this is why I am saying S7, rather than S8) - still very early on in her pregnancy; discussion of Maggie's body going through changes due to the pregnancy (her gaining weight and a brief, passing mention of her feeling insecure due to that weight gain), also mentions of the pregnancy hormones increasing her libido; this fic DOES use Y/N; the reader has a vagina and breasts and uses she/her pronouns - the reader also has the ability to get pregnant and expresses the desire to get pregnant during the fic; there is mentions of the reader's breasts becoming 'swollen' during pregnancy, but this doesn't denote her pre-pregnancy size, this is just a symptom that comes with pregnancy and an exaggerated descriptor due to the kink-side of her partners being excited about her becoming pregnant; this has very little plot and is mostly smut; warnings for the smut specifically: technically pregnancy sex (because Maggie is pregnant) even though she is the dom commanding the two subs and not actually the one being fucked; a lot of sub/dom dynamics - Maggie is extremely dominant (she is a mean, rough dom), the reader is submissive (she is bratty and teasing), and Glenn is submissive (he is soft and very well behaved); Maggie calls the reader 'little bird' and 'darling girl' and 'brat' and 'whore', and 'sweet little bitch', and 'breeding bitch'; Mommy kink - both Glenn and the reader call Maggie Mommy; brat taming - between Maggie and the reader; bondage - Maggie ties the reader's wrists behind her back, and later in the fic, ties Glenn to the bed with his own belt; punishment and reward - the reader misbehaves and Maggie punishes her (and eventually rewards her); some brief descriptions of anal sex (as a brief flashback - and the flashback is trigger when Maggie uses it as a threat towards the reader, but it's not a main point of this fic); fingering - reader receiving; spanking/pain kink - from Maggie towards the reader; Maggie whips the reader with a belt (across the ass, in a way that is described as pleasure-pain); using a knife to cut off and remove clothes; unprotected penis in vagina sex - between Glenn and the reader; overstimulation - Glenn is 'forced' to cum multiple times to the point where it is painful (but he enjoys it); breeding kink - as I mentioned before, the reader wants to get pregnant (and Maggie also really wants this so that their babies will be close in age, and as things progress, Glenn gets very into it as well); mentions of using a vaginal plug (to keep the cum inside); I think that's actually about it.

A/N: Title comes from a song by Xdinary Heroes of the same name. I have been wanting to write more 'quick' fics for TWD, and this fic was supposed to be like 5k, and even though it turned out way longer than I intended it to, this is definitely one of my quicker fics. So I am really happy with it. I want to write more PWP for The Walking Dead because those fics will be quicker, and because it will help me write fics for characters I haven't yet written about that I really want to write for. So I am definitely going to be writing more PWP fics between working on my longer Daryl fic. Anyway, I had a lot of fun working on this fic, and while I most definitely did not think that this was going to be my first fic of the year, I am super excited to share it with you guys, and I really hope that everyone enjoys it!

...

Patience.

It was one of the things that Maggie had mastered since becoming the leader of The Hilltop - well, the ‘unofficial’ leader. If you asked any one of the people who lived in the small community, they would tell you that Maggie was their leader. They would tell you that they looked to her for every important decision, even unimportant ones, and they followed her lead in everything.

Gregory was nothing more than a figurehead - though, in a lot of ways, he wasn’t even that. Figureheads were supposed to be a symbol that people looked to as a representation of something good. But all Gregory represented was cowardice, selfishness, and these days - avoidance of any responsibilities that he claimed to have. He claimed that he was still the undisputed leader of the community, and that all the ‘work’ he had put into Hilltop most definitely still meant something to the people living there. But when it came to major decisions, if Maggie, Glenn, you, Sasha, and Jesus outweighed him on his word, then he simply didn’t get his way.

Which led him to throwing a lot of childlike fits. Which led to Maggie being forced to develop a great deal of patience when it came to him.

Often times, when Gregory huffed and argued with her, she could hear her father’s voice in the back of her mind, ranting on about Job and how God wouldn’t impart wrath on the ‘weak minded’ - especially when she felt the itch of her hand straying toward her gun. She wondered if her father had some hand in sending a man named Jesus to watch over her, ensuring that she didn’t murder this awful, annoying man in cold blood.

“No, no. Absolutely not, I simply won’t have it!”

Gregory’s petulant voice echoed off the walls of the front sitting room that he had declared as his ‘office’ - clearly, he was trying to have some power over the meeting that he had called to talk to Maggie about this latest issue. He sneered a grand huff through his nostrils as he hurled himself back into his seat - a luxurious upholstered chair that sat tall behind the large oak desk that he claimed to ‘work’ at.

Maggie knew that he spent most of his time sitting there, reading through the expensive first edition book collection that lived in the Manor while he drank through the rare Scotch that Negan had given him when the extortion deals had still been in place. Hard work wasn’t something he was familiar with.

Currently, he was throwing a fit because Maggie had demanded (‘suggested’ Jesus would remind her to say during the meeting) - that more of the beds within the house actually be put into use with winter coming up. The Manor was large and had over ten functional bedrooms, and currently, only two of them were in use. One - the largest main bedroom, being used by Gregory, as it had been since The Turn.

And the second, more recently, being one of the smaller bedrooms on the ground floor had been taken up by you, Glenn, and Maggie. The three of you had only moved in there at Jesus’s insistence when he found out about Maggie’s pregnancy, and he felt utterly insulted at the idea of a pregnant woman sleeping outside in a trailer with thin metal walls.

Gregory hadn’t liked the idea of the three of you moving into ‘his house’ - Maggie already knew that his ego took up most of the Manor, but he seemed especially perturbed about the three of you in particular moving in. And when prodded on the manner, he awkwardly danced around the fact that he seemed uncomfortable with your polyamorous relationship. Maggie wasn’t surprised. Even with the society everyone once knew dead and gone, only those closest to you seemed to truly understand what the three of you had without mocking it or believing that it was purely sexual.

But Gregory’s annoyance and even anger toward you and Glenn only made it more satisfying for Maggie to fuck her two lovers in the new found comfort of the Manor’s bed, louder and louder, knowing that he might be kept awake at night by the noise and feel too awkward to say anything about it.

But right now, as she stood with her arms firmly crossed, glaring him down, Maggie knew that this wasn’t just about you or Glenn or even the comfort of her and her unborn child. This was about the other people in the community who didn’t need to be stuck outside in poorly insulated trailers during the winter, sleeping on makeshift cots for beds when there was a luxurious mansion sitting twenty feet away. Gregory had been selfish and petulant long enough - if the house was his last stand, the place where he truly drew a line, then he could be the one to sleep outside.

“This matter isn’t up for discussion, winter is coming up, and-” Maggie began, speaking firmly, but of course, she was cut off.

“You’re right! This isn’t up for discussion!” Gregory bolstered back. “I don’t need a bunch of�� hoodlums running in and out, potentially breaking my priceless artifacts-”

Off to the side, you let out a harsh scoff.

Your annoyance was already thick in the air and Maggie wondered if she was going to regret bringing you into this meeting.

You were sitting in another one of the well padded chairs in the corner, your legs thrown over the arm of the chair in that care-free way that you always had about you. You gave Gregory a look that said you were amused, but tired of his bullshit, and Maggie wasn’t sure if she was thankful for the back-up or already tired at the thought that she might have to wrangle you away from a conflict with him. (Because historically, you had much less patience when it came to dealing with Gregory.)

“Newsflash, asshole. Literally everything is priceless now. There’s no money anymore. And the world has literally turned on its head, in case you haven’t noticed. So canned beans and bullets are far more valuable than any of this old crap that you have in here,”

To punctuate your point, you reached out one of your feet and with absolutely no hesitation, you knocked a vase off a nearby table. It was white with a blue pattern, and Maggie knew that it was likely one of those ‘priceless artifacts’ that Gregory had been talking about. It fell onto the floor and smashed into hundreds of tiny pieces, causing Gregory to jump out of his seat and stare at the mess as girlish gasp fell from his lips. Maggie pressed a firm hand to her forehead, already stressed out at the fact that she would have to mitigate the oncoming fight.

“It’s all meaningless-”

“That was Delftware!” Gregory shouted, turning red in the face with how viciously he raised his volume.

Maggie’s hand brushed over her gun, and she forced herself to clench her fist with patience, moving to stand between you and Gregory when he finally moved out from behind his desk to approach you - not that she thought he would be any threat to you. The man was all talk. But still, she put a hand in the middle of his chest to force him to keep his distance while he glared at you over her shoulder. She became even more aggravated at the fact that she could almost feel the way you were smirking back at him, even if she couldn’t see it.

“It’s just a damn vase, calm down.” Maggie told him, knowing that her annoyance wouldn’t do much to calm him down, but unable to hold back the words.

“Ca - calm down? Me? Calm down?” Gregory balked, looking at her, utterly insulted. “You come into my home, break my things, and-”

“And we tend your gardens to keep you fed, keep Walkers away, negotiate peace and trade with the other communities. Doesn’t Jesus do your laundry?” You added on, sass and impatience absolutely full in your voice. “If it wasn’t for Maggie and the people loyal to her, you would die naked and starving. But a pretty vase is more important, right?”

Maggie locked her jaw, resisting the urge to add onto your point and agree with you, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. She hoped that your words - words that nobody else had dared to speak aloud, at least not to Gregory’s face before - would finally sink in.

She wouldn’t find herself so lucky.

Instead, the man continued to gape at the two of you, looking dumbfounded and insulted, as if he truly could not believe what you were saying.

“I - I founded this community.” He said, going back to the only small leg he had to stand on. “I - uh. Are you going to let your little lackey talk to me this way?” He asked, turning to Maggie, as if hoping that she would dismiss you.

Before Maggie was forced to pick a side in the spat, you spoke up again.

“Are you stupid?” You asked, the words clearly directed at Gregory, sounding entirely casual and conversational, rather than intended to be a genuine insult.

“Excuse me?” Gregory gasped. “How dare that you insinuate that my intelligence is anything other than above average, I have a degree from-”

“It was just a question.” You shrugged. “I didn’t say ‘you are stupid’. I asked ‘are you stupid?’ - I was just wondering.”

Maggie sighed and rolled her eyes, turning to you.

“You. Hallway. Now.” She told you firmly, pointing a hand out toward the door, making an order that she hoped you would be smart enough not to refuse.

You gave her a small smirk that she knew too well - you had been playing it up, dancing on her last nerve on purpose. Then, something inside of her shifted. All the tired frustration that she had been feeling was like coal to a wicked fire, fueling her into a lustful beast. One that was set to attack you the second that she got you alone.

You got up out of your chair and moved into the hallway like she had told you to, your boots crunching over the bits of smashed porcelain that were still scattered across the floor.

“Oh thank god, please tell me that you’re going to punish that wretched beast of a girl.” Gregory sighed.

Maggie was planning on punishing you - but most definitely not in a way that Gregory would ever know about.

Maggie turned back to him, fixing him in her sharp gaze now.

“We are gonna start movin’ people into the bedrooms, whether you like it or not.” She said, making sure he knew that her decision was final. “If you don’t want to live in the house with other people, you can move into one of the trailers, or you can take your chances out on the road and try findin’ someplace else.”

“You’re being completely unreasonable-”

“And clean up that damn mess.” She said with finality as she moved to leave the room, slamming the door on his protests about how you should be forced to clean it up instead.

When she was alone in the hallway with you, her gaze fixed on you like a hungry lioness. You were caught in her crosshairs, and there was no way you were going to escape. (Not that you wanted to.)

You were leaning against one of the walls, perched there oh-so-casually, clearly waiting for her - maybe you weren’t clever enough to run away, not expecting the full measure of the wrath that she was about to bring onto you, or maybe you were eagerly awaiting it.

“Are you stupid?” Maggie barked at you, recycling your own words back onto you as a kind of taunt.

She crossed the hallway in three long strides, soon crowding into your personal space, and didn’t give you a moment to answer the question before she was devouring your mouth. She pinned you even tighter against the wall, completely uncaring of who might come across the two of you and see the utterly carnal exchange - nothing loving to mistake about it, gnashing teeth and panting breath, Maggie trying to devour you in a way that spoke of revenge. Clearly trying to shut you up, and you letting out precious little whimpers as you quickly became turned on by her powerful actions and struggled to keep up.

“I’m not stupid.” You huffed against her chin when she finally pulled back from your lips, looking you in the eyes with a fierce, demanding gaze once again. “Maybe I’m just bored, or-” You choked on a breath, the words dissolving off in your throat.

“What?” Maggie demanded.

She could see the thoughts swimming behind your eyes, something lethal and lustful, something you were almost afraid to say.

“Come on, speak up. Tell me, little bird.”

It was a nickname that made you weak, caused a whimper from deep in your chest - something that she had called you since the beginning of the relationship that made your pussy flutter and made your heart sing.

When your jaw quivered in hesitation and you still didn’t speak, Maggie reached up and harshly grabbed your nipple through your shirt - the peak already stuck off and visible through the thin fabric of your tee shirt, no bra in sight, making you even more of a tease in her eyes. She twisted harshly and wiggled her hold on the sensitive point for a prolonged moment, trying to force words out of you. You let out a small whine, and finally folded to her whims, divulging that secret desire.

“I - I can’t stop thinking about how good you look cause you’re all knocked up,” You said, your voice edging on a whisper, trying to keep it as a secret just between the two of you.

Your hands came forward and cradled her hips - hips that were now wider than they used to be thanks to the epic hunger the pregnancy had given her, something that made you and Glenn proud to satisfy as her providers while she was so busy providing for everyone else. Initially, the weight gain and the way her body changed in make-up (the fact that she was now more curvy than she ever had been) made her feel self conscious, made her feel a bit alien in her own skin. Especially when she had asked Glenn to get her bigger jeans on one of his last scavenging runs.

But now - Maggie’s insides were burning hotter than they had in weeks, raging with confidence and power and sheer need, and what you said cranked the fire up to a full blown inferno.

“I can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous you look.” You said, digging your thumbs into the spot right above the waistband of her jeans, creating an intense tingle across her skin. “I… I wanna be gorgeous like that too.”

The last words came out in a tiny, shy croak, and Maggie almost thought she was mistaken by your meaning - were you saying that you wanted to be pregnant too?

“Say it.” Maggie commanded, stroking a sharp thumb across your cheek and your bottom lip, loving the absolutely enraptured, glassy look in your eyes already. “Say it, little bird.”

“I wanna get pregnant.” You told her, your throat tight around the words as you became swallowed up by your own lust, the statement delivering a beautiful gut punch to Maggie’s stomach.

Her mind was instantly flooded with images of Glenn fucking into you furiously at her command, pulling out - his cock red and raw, drooling and wet with a combination of your cum and his, leaving your cunt used and leaking. Maggie would shove that cum back up inside of you with her fingers to make sure that it took, forcing tears from your eyes as you whined and complained about how sore you were - but it was what you asked for. Your body needed to be fucked and used and filled if you wanted a baby.

She conjured up mental images of your tits swollen and aching, holding them in her hands and feeling how heavy they were, getting to grope all over your body to feel how big and beautiful you were becoming with Glenn’s baby growing inside of you.

And of course, the sentimental part took hold, and she realized that it meant that your kids would grow up close in age. They would be half-siblings biologically - just like her and Beth. It was a needy chime that clanged in her heart that instantly needed to be answered. If you wanted to be pregnant, then Maggie would make it happen.

And then, another stroke of genius flashed into her mind.

She grabbed your wrist and dragged you toward the stairs, and along the way, she spotted something hanging on the railing that would definitely help her in her quest - Jesus had left one of the ropes for the horses bundled up there, so Maggie grabbed it in her free hand and continued hauling you along forcefully behind her.

She smiled widely to herself when she arrived at the end of the hallway and pushed you in through Gregory’s bedroom doorway. He didn’t want people ruining his precious house. Fuck him. Maggie was going to ruin his damn bed.

She followed in behind you and slammed the door shut behind her, and you stared at her with lustful awe in your eyes.

“Uh - Mags, don’t we need Glenn for this part?” You asked, feeling a bitter thrill run up your spine as you watched her take out her knife and cut off a short length of the rope with it.

Maggie let out a dark chuckle - one that made your pussy clench and scared you a little at the same time. She put away her knife, walked over to you, and shoved you down onto the bed with a surprising force. Not that it would take much to topple you when you were this dizzy with lust, shaking with anticipation.

“Darling girl, you still need to be punished for what you did downstairs,” She told you, giving you a dark look.

You choked on a moan and felt yourself most definitely getting wetter - this was what you had been hoping for all afternoon. You were absolutely pliant to her actions when she flipped you onto your stomach and brought both your hands behind your back, tying your wrists together with the abrasive rope that most definitely wasn’t meant for this - it rubbed against your skin in a harsh way that lit up your nerves and somehow, turned you on even more.

Your stomach churned with anticipation and your breath came out in hot pants, and you quickly became dizzier by the second as you wondered what she was going to do to you.

“Just because that old fucker is an awful, thick-skulled, stupid man doesn’t mean that you get to go around actin’ like a rude brat,” Maggie told you, reaching for the waistband of your jeans and your underwear at the same time, harshly pulling the fabric down over your ass, leaving your drooling cunt exposed to the open air in seconds.

You clenched around nothing, feeling more wetness leak out of you, and you knew that she could see it - just how embarrassingly needy and wet you were for her.

“If you can behave yourself through this, then maybe - maybe I’ll go get Glenn and let him stuff your little pussy so you can get your wish, alright?”

You let out a sharp moan at this, and nodded furiously.

“But if you keep actin’ like a damn brat, then I’ll probably have him fuck your ass for practice instead and you won’t even get to cum at all,”

You let out a louder moan - strangely enough, this idea turned you on even more, even though it was entirely counter-productive to your goals. But you remembered the feeling of his cock in your ass from past experiences.

Back at the quarry camp in Atlanta when he brought you back lube from one of his runs to call you out on something he thought was a joke, and you ended up pinned against a tree with his whimpers huffing in your ear, loving the feeling of his cum running down your leg after he pulled out, laughing about how you were ‘crazy’ and it was a ‘weird first date’ (which, it was). Back before the two of you had Maggie - back before the two of you realized that the crazy sex would actually lead to something more.

The memory alone caused more wetness to leak out of you - which Maggie wiped up with two fingers that she promptly shoved inside you with a sharp jab, absolutely no gentleness or warning. The touch lit up your insides with that rough, beautiful feeling, causing your hips to seize up off the bed toward her, instantly seeking more of the friction, more of the fullness.

“God, you are such a little whore,” She taunted you, beginning to fuck you with those two fingers in quick, aggressive strokes.

“I - I’ll be good,” You choked out, turning your head so that your words wouldn’t be lost against the sheets. “I’ll be good, I swear!”

“Yeah?” She taunted you, her voice melting into that fake, honey-sweet tone that turned you on far too much. “You gonna be a good whore? You gonna be a good little whore instead of a dumb fucking brat?”

Then, without any warning, she brought her free hand down onto you in a vicious slap - spanking you harshly across the ass cheek. You let out a moan - enjoying the mixture of bright pain that tingled across your skin and the blinding, sharp pleasure that came from inside of you where she was still fucking you with her fingers, absolutely relentless. She was quickly melting you, turning you into the pliant, submissive, easy girl that she knew you could be.

She was powerful like that. She could have you exactly where she wanted you within minutes.

“Are you gonna earn it?”

She said, her voice becoming slightly breathless from the efforts, but still utterly commanding and powerful in the room - especially past the sounds of you whining and the wet slapping of your pussy under her fingers, being played like a piano for her. Another smack came across your ass from her another hand and you let out another pathetic moan.

“Are you gonna earn the right to be knocked up?”

“Yes!” You cried out in return. “Yes, Mommy!”

“Good girl.”

…

“I need to talk to you.”

Glenn had absolutely no clue what he had done to warrant such a harsh tone from Maggie - firm, demanding, serious. It was her work voice. It was her bossy voice - her ‘something is going down’ voice.

Glenn knew that Maggie had a meeting with Gregory that morning - the man still demanded to be let in on certain ‘matters’, even though, thanks to Maggie, and Jesus, and Sasha, he had very little control over what went on in the small settlement anymore. But he knew how to push Maggie’s buttons, a lot. So either she was pissed off because of something Gregory had done, or something bad was happening.

Glenn found himself unable to move, pure fear struck into him due to the tone of her voice alone, and the stern expression that was knit across her face. He had been picking through a large wooden carriage of goods dropped off by The Kingdom, sorting out a trade haul of both fresh and salvaged items that The Hilltop would need to feed everyone.

Maggie added on even more firmly:

“In private. Now.”

Roused to action by the urgency of her words, Glenn clattered behind her nervously, then, drawn to her bossy energy like a moth to a flame. Usually, it was something that turned him on, now, it was just putting a terrible anxiety deep in his gut. He pattered behind her confident strides with his usual quick steps, wondering what the hell was going on.

Since Maggie had become the unofficial leader of Hilltop, her days had been packed with a busy schedule that caused a lot of stress. Naturally, Gregory felt betrayed when ‘his’ people constantly chose her and looked to her for leadership, especially when going through conflicts with the Saviors that ultimately ended in a peaceful unification after Negan had been jailed. (Gregory had felt even more sour when he had chosen the wrong side, and still, Maggie and Rick had chosen to save his life.)

So these days he mostly just sequestered himself off in his office and drank and pretended that he was actually the one making decisions for the community when everyone looked to Maggie for true leadership.

This meant that Maggie was the truly busy one - she was the one making decisions about food, building more shelters for the growing community, trading with the other communities around them, how to deal with Walkers and potential threats like the Saviours (should those threats come up), medical care. Her days were packed with meetings, gardening to ensure the security of the food supply, and often, traveling off to the other communities to have more meetings. All while she was dealing with the hormones from her pregnancy.

She was adorably round as she entered her second trimester, her stomach just starting to show the cute pouch of a true baby bump - something that distracted Glenn increasingly as the days went on and made him smile. (That, along with the fact that her breasts were definitely growing and her ass was most definitely getting wider. Something she complained about that he found… viciously temping.) While she was busy taking care of the entire community, he was trying his best to take care of her - always chasing her down to eat and trying to make sure that she got the right amount of sleep.

And he was worried that something big and terrible had happened now - something that would cause her and the baby far too much stress.

When they arrived at the main house, Glenn wasn’t surprised when the large sitting room off to the side was closed off, Gregory clearly having closed himself in, sulking again. Maggie tightly grabbed his hand and began literally dragging him up the stairs, causing him to stumble over his own feet as she raced a bit faster than he could keep up.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, tripping over the edge of one of the fancy long rugs lining the intricately decorated hallways. “Is someone dead?” He dared to ask. “Did I do something? Am I in trouble? Maggie, come on-”

She shoved him inside the largest bedroom at the end of the hall - a room that Glenn could have sworn belonged to Gregory. But he couldn’t bring himself to care at all when Maggie quickly pulled the door shut behind them, locked it, and then yanked him close with two fingers tucked into his belt.

He barely had a moment to think before her mouth was on his, smothering him with an intense heat that he had missed so damn badly, even though it had only been two days since the last time they had fucked.

Oh. The state of her urgency and need for privacy truly clicked into his brain. Oh, fuck.

Glenn let out a sharp moan into her mouth - one that was only amplified when she pushed her tongue forcefully past his lips and reached for his belt. She swiftly unbuckled it and unzipped his jeans, reaching into the fly to forcefully grope his cock through his underwear, bringing him to full hardness so quickly that his head began to spin.

He let out another thick groan that was quickly swallowed by her perfect mouth - his mind was melting so quickly that he felt like he was frying inside of a giant pan, but he truly didn’t care. Her touch was just too good - all of it was just too good.

Glenn almost swore that he could taste the sharp tang of pussy in her mouth, a brightness that made him crave and want even more, that made him dizzy and pliant to her, but that would mean that you -

“Mommy?”

Glenn’s stomach jolted when he heard a pathetic moan that wasn’t his own, and Maggie parted far enough from him to allow his head to veer off toward the sound with horny curiosity flashing brightly through him.

Surely enough, there you were.

He wasn’t even sure when he had closed his eyes, but when he managed to peel them open, he discovered an utterly filthy sight that he was sure Maggie had left there just for him to enjoy.

You were propped against the bed, your cheek pressed against the expensive silk comforter, your mouth wide open and drooling, clearly already fucked out. Your hands were tied behind your back with a rough braided rope that was typically used on the horses, one that was abrasive on your skin and would surely leave marks that would last for days or even weeks and would be obvious to everyone. Hell, those kinds of marks might even be alarming to some people who didn’t know about the rumors of your ‘behind closed doors’ activities if you didn’t wear long sleeves in the coming days.

Your feet were still planted firmly on the floor, leaving your ass exposed to the open air, your stomach leaning on the edge of the bed, with your jeans hastily ripped down to your knees - clearly, Maggie had been in just as much of an urgent rush with you too. The skin of your ass cheeks was bright and raw, already bruising slightly in some places - obviously, Maggie had delivered a vicious spanking to you over something you had done that had displeased her.

If you had sat through your punishment well, perhaps taking Glenn’s cock would be your reward. Glenn’s body tingled with pleasure at the thought.

Especially because your cunt was so pretty and used - clearly Maggie had been playing with it while she had been spanking you. You were so wonderfully raw, spread open and puffed with blood and absolutely drunk with your wetness. The glistening slick spread all over your cute pussy hair and leaking down to slick up your thighs, your hole clenching with anticipation - clearly, you hated the emptiness. (Glenn yearned to march over there and thrust inside of you, filling you up - but he was absolutely not mistaken about the fact that Maggie was in charge.)

He was instantly struck with a mental image of Maggie forcing you onto the bed, tying your hands behind your back and then shoving her face into your cunt - alternating between forcefully fucking you open with her fingers and spanking your ass until you were crying out for her to stop.

Her arms had gotten so strong from the farm work, long hours digging holes with shovels with no heavy machinery to help the process along, lifting heavy bags of fertilizer even when Glenn insisted she shouldn’t, carrying large buckets of water - Glenn would be lying if he said that the fact that she could pin him down so easily didn’t turn him on.

The mental image somehow made him even more turned on than he already was. And of course, with perfect timing, Maggie gave another harsh grope to his cock and ravenously bit at his neck. He had a feeling that if anymore blood rushed away from his brain to rapidly fill up his dick and balls, he would likely soon pass out - but then the idea of Maggie simply not caring and using him as an unconscious fucktoy turned him on even more in a wickedly depraved way.

“Y/N,” Glenn panted out your name, already struggling to breathe.

You flailed on the bed slightly, looking like a fish struggling on dry land because of the difficult position Maggie had left you in with your hands trapped behind your back (your body likely jelly and tired from one orgasm having rocked you, if not a few by now). Eventually, you managed to crane your head enough to see him, and you let out a little wicked laugh when you saw that Maggie was mauling his neck and already had his pants down over his thighs.

“Glenn!” You called back breathlessly in return. “You should have run when you had the chance, dude! These pregnancy hormones are making her fucking insane,”

There was a wicked kind of delight to your voice - and Glenn wasn’t quite sure what the sentiment behind your words was; if you truly felt like he would regret this because Maggie was too wound up to be reasoned with (which could very well be the case). Or if you wanted to keep her all to yourself because you could be a sucker for punishment at times, and you liked her when she was at her most ‘insane’. Glenn had seen how sometimes, you loved to tease Maggie just to drive her ‘insane’ so that she would spank you and overstimulate you until you nearly passed out.

Glenn, on the other hand, was softer. And typically, he enjoyed one or two rounds of playful sex or even making love - so perhaps your warning was a bit of both. Perhaps you knew that Glenn couldn’t quite handle Maggie when she was like this, but you could.

At your words, Maggie scoffed and pulled away from Glenn’s skin, and before he could truly miss the sensation of her soft lips sucking on him, he became intrigued by what she did next. She moved to grab his belt, swiftly pulling it out of the loops of his jeans, now wielding the leather in her hands in a way that was all too familiar - a weapon. It was something she had used against you before.

“Why do you always have to be such a goddamn brat?”

She scolded you sharply, and then, she stepped toward you, holding on tight to one end of the belt - Glenn watched with a delightful knot in his stomach as she wound her arm back, and he realized a moment too late that the end she was whipping toward you was the end with the metal buckle attached to it.

“Mommy-”

“Shut up!” She hissed at you in the same moment that the metal struck across your skin, creating a sharp welt across the width of one of your ass cheeks, causing you to yelp and jolt away from the sensation, and unmistakably - causing a fresh wave of hot slick to gush out of your cunt.

“Jesus, Maggie, the buckle!” Glenn spoke up, alarmed.

He couldn’t help it, it was just his nature. Even if you relaxed your muscles and moaned in pleasure moments after the hit washed over you, and you didn’t make any verbal protests. You knew that, even as ‘insane’ as Maggie was, there was always room for you to do so if you needed to. Glenn always had your best interests at heart. Again, he was just soft like that.

“She’s fine. You know she’s a pain lovin’ whore.”

Maggie scoffed again, rolling her eyes. But then, something else struck her, causing her hot streak to be turned toward him as she dropped the belt onto the floor with a dull ‘clank’.

“Wait - what did you just call me?”

“I - uh-”

Glenn began to stutter, and instinctively backed up when Maggie charged toward him, almost tripping over his own pants (which had now fallen down around his ankles). But he was quickly stopped in his tracks when Maggie grabbed him by the cock again - taking a firm, deadly hold on his cock and balls through his underwear, causing him to freeze deadly still when her sharp, untrimmed nails dug into his flesh oh-so-slightly.

He wasn’t one for pain, but for some reason, it sent a perfect tingle through him, and made his cock throb so perfectly. It sent an epic rush of adrenaline through him and he puffed a hot breath into her face while she stared him down with an utterly predatory gaze, and behind her, he could see you flailing again, desperately trying to see what was going on over your shoulder.

“What did you call me?” Maggie repeated, firmer, fiercer this time.

“Your name.” He wheezed out, knowing that he sounded utterly pathetic.

“No, that is not my name.” She replied, annoyance twinging into her voice. “Not here. Not when we’re alone. Now come on - what is my name? What are you supposed to call me?”

Glenn, growing dizzier with lust by the second, knew that there was only one correct answer.

“Mommy.”

He whined in reply, grateful when she released her death grip on his cock and smoothed a more forgiving touch across his shaft through the fabric, causing him to let out a tiny weep of precum in response. He shuddered and let out a whimper and he absolutely did not miss her utterly satisfied cat-like smirk as she turned back to you, giving him one last glance over her shoulder - naturally, with more dominating words.

“Get undressed. You have work to do.”

Glenn knew that the instructions were simple and certain for a reason - they were meant to be followed without question. Just like her place in the rest of the world, when Maggie picked out a job for him in their relationship, she assigned it to him with finite simplicity, and it was always best not to question her leadership.

(He had realized a bit too late that she had decided to get pregnant before he even considered it an option, and he was just happily fucked dumb and too pleased to question why he was allowed to cum inside of her beautiful pussy now.)

Glenn rushed to undo the buttons of his shirt with clumsy hands, still eagerly watching as Maggie went back over to you, clearly not done with you yet. She raised her hand up, and laid a harsh, open-handed spank across your ass, specifically targeting the harsh welt that the belt buckle had left on your skin to maximize the jolt of pain that went through you.

It definitely worked, according to the wail you let out and the way your body seized up off the bed. Even though Glenn wasn’t someone usually turned on by pain, he couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed and let out another thick bead of precum, especially when you choked on a moan as she smoothed her warm hands over your skin, coddling you in turn with the harsh pain.

“Maggie-” You whined, making the same mistake that Glenn had earlier, earning you another sharp smack - one that had her wedding ring grazing across your skin sharply in a way that made you squeal.

“Are you stupid?” She barked, quickly moving two fingers back to your gaping cunt and shoving them inside without any gentleness, fucking into your raw hole so quickly that you saw stars. “Or are you tryna piss me off again? Huh?”

“‘m sorry, sorry! Ah!”

“What? I’m sorry, darlin’, I can’t hear you!” Maggie replied in a sing-song type voice, clearly teasing you as she continued to viciously fuck your cunt, digging her nails into the flesh of your ass with the other hand, waiting for you to say the magic words - or rather, the one magic word she wanted to hear.

Glenn’s insides jumped at the pure, filthy ‘squelch’ that rang out through the air, his tongue becoming fat in his mouth as he yearned to push between your thighs and taste that wetness. He raced to tear his feet out of the mess of fabric around his ankles, kicking off his shoes, finally getting out of his remaining clothing to be fully naked and free. He deeply resisted the urge to reach down and touch his throbbing cock where it jutted out from his pelvis, heavy, aching and needy, because he knew that would only get him scolded and put him on Maggie’s bad side. He knew that if he wanted to cum tonight, he should stay on her good side.

He moved forward to stand behind Maggie, eagerly looking over her shoulder and down at you as he waited for her next direction, drinking in the sight of her two fingers jabbing into your pussy with no mercy.

“I’m sorry, Mommy!” You cried out in return, finally giving her what she wanted.

“Better.” She sighed, pulling her fingers out - clearly, she had never been fucking your pussy with the intention of making you cum, but simply playing with you like the toy that you were, winding you up for her own enjoyment.

She leaned down and left a sharp, sudden bite on your ass, right on that same already sore spot, enjoying the scream you let out - another beautifully pathetic sound that only served to remind her of the power she held over you.

She then reached to her belt, going for the knife that she always kept there. For a moment, Glenn thought that she might cut the rope and finally free your wrists - but she surprised him when she used a hold on your arm to turn you over until you were resting on your back.

Once again, moving with utter certainty, she brought the blade to the bottom of your tee shirt and began slicing, easily tearing the fabric in half until your entire body was exposed - leaving your bare chest heaving as you let out a wild moan, far too turned on by the act of her cutting your clothes off you.

“Fuck, Mommy-” You breathed out, now most definitely in that buttery, utterly subservient headspace that Maggie needed you to be in.

“You gonna be a good little whore?” Maggie asked with a smirk, putting her knife back into its holster.

Before you had time to answer, she reached out a sharply twisted one of your nipples, causing you to let out a pathetic wail, arching into the touch.

“Ah! Yes! Yes, Mommy!” You replied, quivering and entirely subservient to her. “I’m yours. I’m good - I’ll be good. Please.”

Glenn’s skin was tingling with the feeling lingering in the air, drool easily pooling in his mouth just from getting to witness this. He was surprised when a small gasp escaped his lips as Maggie delivered a small smack to one of your tits, truly driving home her power with a little bit of extra pain, having you moaning and pressing your tits into the air, eager for more.

“Good.” Maggie said firmly. “Mommy’s glad you’re finally ready to be filled up.”

Glenn was more than eager and willing, but he should have been slightly afraid when Maggie reached back to the ground and grabbed his belt once again.

He should have been anticipating that what came next was going to drive him beyond his limits, but truly - he was far too turned on to care.

…

Not much later, Glenn found himself flat on his back in the middle of the bed, his hands tangled up and bound by the leather of his belt. He was tied to one of the slats on the fancy wooden headboard, with you completely divested of any remaining clothing and perched above him, your hands still tied behind your back, meaning that both of you had absolutely no control over the situation. Exactly how Maggie preferred things.

Maggie had manhandled you into place with that perfect, well-worked strength of hers and hadn’t hesitated to perch you right on top of Glenn’s cock, forcing you to sink down on top of his thick, eight-inch length - so now you were surrounding him like a wonderful, wet, hot sleeve. It was a feeling that had driven him insane within seconds.

Of course, you were clumsy and had practically no control, even though you were the one on top of him. You could do nothing with your arms tight behind your back and your legs weak from Maggie’s earlier brutal fucking of your pussy. You could do nothing but let her guide you. With her hands firm on your hips, she was using you like a perfect doll, like a fleshlight on Glenn’s cock, hammering you down onto his pelvis.

And though he was blind to how long it had been since you had sunk down onto his cock (he certainly wasn’t timing it and wasn’t keeping an eye on any one of the antique clocks in the room, not with your gorgeous tits swaying in front of his face) - it felt like it had been hours of brutal heat gripping him, smothering him in a private desert that had covered him in a thick sheen of sweat and made his muscles ache from the effort.

He was already swimming in a puddle of his own cum, his heavy balls already soaked and sloppy slick, making everything sound even filthier every single time Maggie dropped you down on top of him once again, making him feel gross in a way that somehow turned him on. He couldn’t help but to love every second of this - his mind hazy, his mouth wide open as he panted like a dog, desperate for air, your tits bouncing in his face as you moved on top of him with just as much desperation, chanting in quiet mumbles under your breath.

“Fill me up, fill me up, fuck-”

Somehow, he was still iron hard inside of you from the sheer demand of your hot pussy squeezing him, from Maggie’s beautiful southern voice going on, and on, telling the both of you exactly what she wanted.

“He’s gonna fill you up so good,” Maggie said, petting a hand across Glenn’s stomach in a sweet way that made his aching muscles melt. “Aren’t you, honey? Yeah? You’re gonna fill our girl up so good - gonna fill up this little pussy til she can’t take anymore,”

His cock was almost in pain at this point, and he almost felt like a prisoner, tied up and trapped underneath you with Maggie’s piercing eyes staring at him over your shoulder. But he realized that this was the best place in the world to be trapped. It was a smothering heat, a stinging pain that drove him insane. But it was where he was needed - it was a demand from two of the finest women in the world, a need for him, for his cock - a need that nobody else could ever fill. If it made Glenn a prisoner, then he would serve a life sentence and be a Walker chained up for the two of you to mock and admire as some kind of sick ornament and he would be happy about it.

It was the best kind of torture he could have ever imagined.

“Fuck, it hurts,”

Glenn whined, his head utterly dizzy - he wasn’t even sure if it was a complaint or not, simply a statement of fact. It was a point of awe as a jolt of sharp pleasure-pain zapped through his rod-hard cock and somehow - he found himself loving it, found himself letting out a sharp whine and jostling his hips up into your heat, seeking more of that delicious, deadly feeling.

“Aww, darlin, it’s almost like you’re new at this,”

Maggie replied, tossing him a grin.

She reached around a pinched one of your nipples, and you arched into the touch, and Glenn found his jaw lolling open in a sharp pant, his neck arching forward automatically with the urge to taste, the need to lap over that delicious, plump skin. But he was tied down with his arms stretched high above his head and unable to reach, and if he had any brain left in his head at all, he would have known that he must have looked like a foolish, dumb dog chasing after a treat that he couldn’t have.

“I get what I want.” Maggie continued on. “And what I want - is for this sweet little bitch to be pregnant. By tonight.” Maggie grabbed your cheeks sharply on both sides to emphasize the point, and you let out a whine in response. “So you’re gonna get your job done, Glenn. You’re gonna breed her up good, or I’m gonna leave the two of ya tied up here til it’s done - got it?”

Glenn huffed out a breath - the mental image of you pregnant, especially pregnant alongside Maggie, both of you round together, with swollen breasts and glowing skin and… both of you having his babies, both of you needy for his cock, waking him up in the middle of the night, just as demanding as Maggie had been over the past few weeks. It was just as terrifying and dizzying as it was absolutely thrilling.

“I want it.” You moaned out, your voice echoing and frantic. “I want it, I want it, I want it! Please, Glenn!”

You looked down at him with tears glassy across your eyes, your utter desperation punching him in the gut.

You really wanted to get pregnant. You really wanted to get pregnant with his baby.

Fuck.

“Promise her.” Maggie barked. “Promise her that you’re gonna knock her up!”

She then lightly smacked Glenn across the thigh behind you, jolting him into action.

“Fuck, ah!” Glenn gasped. “I promise. I promise, Y/N. I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll give you as many babies as you want, I swear.”

He wished that he could have pulled you close to kiss you as a way of sealing his promise, an in that silent way that she always understood him, Maggie grabbed you harshly by the hair and shoved you down toward Glenn, pressing your tits tightly up against his chest as she shoved your mouth into his in a messy, sloppy, somehow very heart-warming kiss. Glenn moaned into your mouth and you shoved your tongue past his lips, entirely eager to taste him.

“You’re gonna look so gorgeous when you’re all knocked up, little bird.” Maggie whispered in your ear. “Such a pretty little breeding bitch for us,”

All too soon, she yanked you away from Glenn’s mouth with that hold on your hair, and the harsh tugging on your roots causing a delightful spike of pain combined with her filthy words sent your body spiralling towards the edge.

“Fuck, Mommy!”

You choked on a moan and Glenn felt you spasming around him, your hips grinding non-rhythmically on his cock in sharp jumps - fuck, you were cumming. You were cumming just from the idea of him knocking you up.

And fuck - he was cumming again too.

Glenn let out a grunt from deep within his chest and instinctively fucked himself up into you in a few sharp pumps. But at this point, when the hot flood came spilling from his cock, mixing with your overflowing wetness and his own previous loads of cum, he couldn’t even tell where the new mess began and the old mess ended. It was all just stickiness and filth at this point.

There was a single, tiny moment where he thought that his dick just might give up - where his body might forcibly black out and that he would wake up later, inevitably in this same position of utterly beautiful torture. But instead, a sharp, tingling pain ran across his skin and developed into a mild muscle cramp in his pelvis, and he remained rock-hard inside of you, once again squeezed by your gorgeous, wet, warm pussy while Maggie kept grinding you down across his filthy wet pubic hair.

“Fuck, fuck, Mommy - I’m so full, I’m so full-”

You stuttered out, your eyes shut and your words slurring with a kind of drunkenness as your head tipped back to rest on Maggie’s shoulder - she looked at you with a unique, utterly satisfied, near villainous expression as she smoothly petted away some stray hairs from your face. Her breasts were heaving inside of her shirt and Glenn could just imagine how wet she was inside of her jeans.

“Well, that’s the point, little bird.” She told you softly, her voice a coo that was edging on teasing once again. “You’re s’pose to get all full til you’re little cunt can’t take anymore… get all bred up and give Mommy another baby.”

Glenn let out a growl at these words - his brain utterly possessed by the idea that yes, it was Maggie’s baby. It was his baby. It was your baby, just like the baby inside of her was yours. The three of you so utterly interconnected that you might as well be handcuffed together on a daily basis.

Maggie put a firm hand on your lower belly, as if to demonstrate her point, as if willing Glenn’s cum to take, to get you pregnant right then and there. You arched into the touch, inadvertently grinding yourself against him in a way that drove him even more insane.

“I need it, fuck, I need it,” You mumbled out ravenously. “I need to be full, I to be bred, please,”

Somewhere along the way, Glenn had realized that this was about revenge.

Maggie wanted to fuck in Gregory’s bed to get back at him. Jesus wouldn’t let her kill him, not without good reason. Especially not since tentative peace had been established with the Saviours - he went on about how ‘no more bloodshed’ was necessary, and in a way, as annoying as he found Gregroy, Glenn agreed.

So Maggie found other ways to get back at him. She had you and Jesus drink his good scotch to reward the two of you for all your hard work, and she would dilute the bottles with water when the two of you were done. Then she would quietly laugh whenever the man droned on about how good a ‘finely aged’ drink tasted, clearly knowing that his unrefined palette could not taste the difference between actually good scotch and the watered down bullshit that she had left him. She snuck Rick and Daryl some of his fine cigars when they arrived with trade items, and when he asked why the count was lower when he remembered, she acted clueless and told him that his count must have been off.

But this was the most brazen she had ever been with her taunting of Gregory.

Some part of Glenn knew that she had absolutely no intentions of changing the sheets - that a great part of her satisfaction would come from leaving dried cum all over his fine linens and either forcing him to clean it up himself (leaving him with the awkward, embarrassing knowledge of what it was). Or letting him be foolish enough to sleep in it if he somehow didn’t notice it. With Maggie always knowing that he was sleeping on the same mattress where Glenn had fucked a baby into you (if he got it right on the first try, which - he didn’t think he was going to miss with this much of his cum stuffed inside of you now).

And somehow, that thought turned him on, too.

Maggie reached down behind you and Glenn let out a very undignified wail when she groped his balls - the skin was slick with your wetness, but he was already so sore, his body so spent and used. The touch sent a sensation through his body, rocking him with overwhelming pleasure - he wasn’t sure how he remained conscious at that point.

“Got anymore for me?” She asked, giving him a wicked grin. “Huh? You gonna be a good boy for me ‘n fill our girl up some more?”

“Jesus,” Glenn hissed, intensely overwhelmed - between Maggie’s words, her touch, and the clench of your cunt around him once again as Maggie’s other hand reached up to tweak your nipple - her question was truly answered.

Like a man possessed, Glenn choked on a breath and garbled spit, somehow shooting another load into your already well used, very wet pussy. Maggie hummed in a pleased tone, and then, seemingly, planted her hands on your hips with the purpose of finally moving you off Glenn.

But she was disrupted by a knock on the door. The sound shook Glenn with anxiety - up until that moment, he had been so perfectly stuck in a bubble where only you, him, and Maggie existed, and hadn’t even thought about the consequences of getting caught.

“Hey, uh - Maggie?” Jesus’s very timid voice came from the other side of the door. Usually he wasn’t shy, but… god, he must have heard what was going on behind the closed door, making him incredibly hesitant to interrupt. “Sasha just arrived with those panels for the greenhouse that you wanted, and she wants to go over the plans again, so… do you mind coming downstairs?”

“Be right there!” Maggie called back.

Much to Glenn’s horror, she climbed off the bed, leaving you to drop back onto Glenn’s cock firmly. You let out another harsh noise as he sank deep inside of you again and Glenn practically saw stars as his body shook with overstimulation. Maggie didn’t look back in your direction - she crossed the room to the door (leaving behind the flannel she had been wearing as an outer shirt, now only in a thin tank top) and her boots, and she scooted out the door, closing it behind her quickly, as to not let any wandering eyes peek inside.

But this left you and Glenn, tied up, stuck together - his cock still fully seated inside of you. (He was willing himself to go soft, to relax, but it was incredibly difficult with you squirming on top of him and making those pretty little noises as you did so, your tits heaving with every breath, your blissful, fucked-out face still right there in his line of sight, your heat still fully gripping his aching, sore dick. Fuck.)

“Can - can you get off me?” Glenn choked out, absolutely no power in his voice, meek and whimpery as ever.

“I’m trying.” You moaned back weakly, still squirming. Your thighs were quivering terribly and your knees were shaking as you tried to lift yourself up, your arms absolutely no help to give you leverage while they were held hostage with the rough rope behind your back. “It’s not my fault I’m stuck on a full seven inches over here.”

“Eight.” Glenn mumbled back in return. (He wasn’t even being cocky with the correction, not in his opinion. It was simply factual.)

“Now is not the time, pizza boy.” You grumbled in complaint, letting out another weak whimper when you accidentally caused his tip to graze across a partially weak spot inside of you, causing more wetness to flood out around the base of his cock - something he definitely felt, and hated how it made his cock throb sorely.

“Fuck, stop that!” He growled at you.

“Stop? Stop what? Stop trying to get up like you fucking told me to?” You replied, annoyed - Maggie had been gone for about a minute, and you had already developed back into a mean brat. No surprise there. “Make up your fucking mind, Glenn, because I know that you’re whiny and overstimulated, but I could sit on your cock all day if I wanted to-”

Your empty threat was quickly cut off when the bedroom door swung open again, and Maggie charged back inside.

“You know, I should make you do it.” Maggie said, clearly having heard your words.

Both you and Glenn craned your necks to look at her as she sat in one of the large cushioned armchairs and began putting on her boots, all graceful confidence and power, every single move calculated and elegant - making the two of you wait with baited breath before she spoke again.

“You’re such a goddamn brat - I should make you stay there, stuffed full until I come back to get you.”

“Maggie, please.” Glenn begged quietly, trying to appeal to her - giving her his best puppy eyes, trying to remind her that he had done nothing wrong.

She let out a harsh sigh, defeated, unable to resist that look from him.

When she stood up from the chair, she finally came over and grabbed you with an arm around your waist, hoisting you off Glenn - the two of you parting made the filthiest sound, slick and wet as his cock slapped down onto his stomach. You were left gaping, a flood of cum instantly leaking out of you and making a mess over your thighs and across the bed, exactly as Maggie had wanted.

Glenn found himself enraptured by the sight - especially when you inevitably clenched your pussy around the empty feeling and more of his cum spilled out of you.

Maggie couldn’t help herself - she reached out and used two fingers to push the mess back into you, causing you to whimper weakly as the intrusion prodded against your swollen, well-used walls.

“I should fuck you again.” Maggie whispered against your ear, a hot threat as she shoved her fingers deep inside of you, rough and unforgiving. “I should teach you a lesson for mouthin’ off to Glenn. But - I do have a meeting to get to.”

You let out a sigh of relief when she pulled her fingers out of you, and then reached for her knife, finally moving to cut the rope holding your wrists giving your now very sore arms some room to move and stretch. Maggie then moved to untie Glenn, and instinctively, when he saw the raw skin of your wrists from the rough texture of the rope, he couldn’t help but to bring your hand up and kiss across your wrist, wanting to soothe it a bit, even if just emotionally.

“You’re too soft with her.” Maggie scolded him, no real heat behind it. “That’s why she’s such a brat.”

“Maybe.” Glenn shrugged in reply, giving you a small smile, which you easily returned.

You wanted to make a comment about how you were a brat because you liked to see how far you could push Maggie - but you held the words in.

“Go get cleaned up,” Maggie told Glenn, picking up his pants and pushing them into his hands, and then shoving him toward the attached ensuite bathroom. He was quick to move, following her instructions. “I have a long afternoon ahead of me, yammering on about the goddamn greenhouse plans - so unfortunately I can’t just leave the two of you alone in here.”

“You ruined my shirt,” You whined, moving to pick up your pants and looking at the pile of shredded fabric that had once been your shirt with sad eyes.

“I’ll get you a new one.” Maggie replied easily.

When you moved to walk around her, going to use the bathroom to clean the (vast amount of) cum off you, Maggie put a hand in the middle of your still very sweaty chest, stopping you.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook just cause I have things to attend to.” She said, locking you in that firm gaze once again.

You caught Glenn’s eye behind her shoulder, and he held in laughter. He genuinely wondered what you had done earlier that day to deserve such a punishment. But he was just glad to be an observer on the sidelines rather than someone at the end of Maggie’s clever lustful wrath.

…

For the rest of the day, you received strange looks from everyone who was at Hilltop, trying to go about their day, doing their chores, because you were walking as though you had just gotten off a particularly long, painful horse ride.

Maybe it was the few extra, vicious strikes to the ass that Maggie had given you when you had complained about the punishment that she was sentencing you to, or maybe it was the punishment itself. That punishment being - stuffing a large plug inside if you in an attempt to keep Glenn’s cum in, and not letting you wash up so that you wouldn’t waste a single drop, wouldn’t wash any of his precious spend down the drain.

But with the gape that his wide cock had left you in, that small plug wasn’t quite enough to keep bits of his cum from spilling out of you whenever you moved, so along with your dirty thighs and matted pubic hair, every single time you moved, you felt your underwear and jeans becoming more and more soiled with the evidence of what the three of you had done.

And to the most careful, watchful eye (that being Glenn’s of course - he tried his best to busy himself with his chores, willing his tired, aching cock to stay down, because he feared that it just might fall off if he got hard again that day) - the seam of your jeans where it was pressing up against your cunt was just a bit darker, the fabric actively wet and stuck to you, soaked from his cum leaking out of you and likely from how turned on you still were from the whole thing.

Glenn had to force himself to focus on his assigned chores, because if he didn’t - he just might have pulled you aside into the trees and tried again to fuck another baby into you. After all, it was what Maggie wanted. And she always got what she wanted in the end.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot and there will not be a 'Part 2' or a continuation. If you are going to comment on this fic, please comment on the body of work that has been written, rather than asking for a continuation.

If you like this dynamic, feel free to come to my inbox and tell me that you liked this fic for that reason, and I will likely write more with this pairing (the Maggie x Reader x Glenn pairing). But I will not be continuing this fic directly. You can also check out my other Gleggie x Reader fic Hold Me Tight Or Don't, or you can check out my other TWD fics by going through my Walking Dead Masterlist. Happy reading, and I hope you have a great day!

#sundrop writes #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #twd smut #twd x read #gleggie #gleggie x reader #maggie rhee x reader #maggie rhee #maggie greene x reader #maggie greene #maggie rhee smut #glenn rhee x reader #glenn rhee imagine #glenn rhee #glenn rhee smut

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 3 days ago

Text

Marilyn Monroe: a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 4: Lake..

WARNING:

This fanfiction explores sensitive themes, including mental health struggles, trauma, mentions of past sexual abuse, suicidal ideation, and things of that nature. Moving forward this fanfiction will contain intense emotional moments and depictions of characters navigating complex personal challenges such as suicide attempts & self harm. This is a work of fiction and does not reflect the real life characters or lives of any individuals depicted in this story. Please proceed with caution, and if you or someone you know is struggling, consider seeking support from a trusted professional or helpline. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255 & 988

Jey woke up to the shrill sound of his nap alarm. He groggily checked the time—it was already 5:30. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed his phone, seeing a text from Rhea. The message simply read: “Call me :/”

Confused and concerned, Jey pressed the call button and waited for her to pick up. The ringing felt longer than usual, each second stretching out. Finally, she answered, her voice strained. “Hey,” she muttered.

Jey immediately picked up on the tone, a deep worry creeping in. “What’s wrong?”

Rhea sighed, sounding frustrated and exhausted. “My social worker got on my ass…”

Jey’s heart tightened. “You wanna talk about it?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

Rhea paused for a moment before replying, “Yeah, but not here, at my house. Meet me by the lake where I live.”

Jey didn’t hesitate. “Of course, I’ll be there in a bit.”

“I’ll see you soon,” she said before hanging up.

Jey slowly climbed out of bed, stretching as he rubbed his face to shake off the remnants of sleep. He made his way to the bathroom, brushing his teeth and spraying some cologne, making sure to freshen up before heading out. He ran his fingers through his mullet, giving it a quick fix before he decided it was good enough.

Heading downstairs, Jey took a moment to glance at Jon and Trinity, both peacefully napping on the couch. He didn’t want to disturb them, so he quietly grabbed his keys and slipped out of the house without making a sound.

The drive to the lake felt almost surreal, like he was still half-asleep. His thoughts were on Rhea—on how he could help, on the anger he could sense in her voice. He parked his car near the lake, the setting sun casting a warm golden hue across the water. He spotted her almost immediately.

Rhea stood near the edge of the water, wearing a black oversized shirt and black biker shorts, paired with simple Vans. Her tattoos, scattered across her arms and legs, caught the fading light. The ink seemed to tell stories, some he didn’t know and others he didn’t need to ask about.

She turned and noticed him approaching, her expression softening just a little. Jey walked toward her, his heart thumping in his chest, uncertain of what she needed, but knowing she needed him.

She didn’t say anything right away, but the tension in the air spoke volumes. They both just stood there for a moment, the lake’s quiet waves lapping against the shore as if giving them space to breathe.

Finally, Jey broke the silence. “You okay?” he asked gently.

Jey’s heart skipped a beat as Rhea’s voice broke the silence between them. She spoke softly, her words laced with a vulnerability he hadn’t expected. “Would it be too much if I asked you to hold me?”

The request hung in the air, a quiet plea for comfort that echoed in the depths of his chest. Jey froze for a moment, caught between the weight of her words and the gravity of the situation. He knew better than most how complicated touch could be for Rhea. Her past was filled with moments where touch meant pain, betrayal, and fear. He wasn’t sure what it would mean for her now—if it would ground her or send her spiraling. But he also knew that sometimes, when words weren’t enough, the right touch could bridge the distance between two broken souls.

His mind raced, but when he looked at her—really looked at her, the exhaustion in her eyes, the tension in her posture, the rawness in her voice—he didn’t have to think twice. “No,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s not too much. I’ll hold you.”

Without another word, she stepped toward him, her hands reaching up, her fingers trembling slightly. Jey’s heart ached as he reached for her, wrapping his arms around her in a careful embrace. He wasn’t sure what to expect—did she need the comfort, or would she pull away? But when she rested her head against his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck, a quiet exhale escaping her lips, he knew.

Her warmth enveloped him. It wasn’t just physical warmth—it was the kind of warmth that seeped into his very soul, that filled the cracks in his heart. It was everything he hadn’t known he needed, and everything he never thought he would get from her.

Her nose nuzzled gently against his chest, the soft scent of strawberries and cream shampoo making his chest tighten. It was such a simple thing, but in that moment, it felt like everything. She smelled like safety, like comfort, like something so pure and innocent that Jey found himself getting lost in the feeling. His arms tightened around her, holding her closer, as if he could shield her from the world, from all the pain and trauma she carried with her.

He could feel the slight tremor in her body as she pressed against him, and it hit him like a wave. Rhea, the strong, tough woman who faced the world head-on, who had lived through so much, was here in his arms—fragile and vulnerable. She was letting him hold her, letting him see this side of her that she so rarely showed.

Jey’s breath caught in his throat as he closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing. Her steady inhalations and exhalations were like a heartbeat he could feel in his bones, grounding him in the moment. Time slowed, and everything outside of this small space they shared seemed to fade into nothingness. It was just the two of them, wrapped in the quiet silence, holding each other, letting the warmth and the connection speak for what words couldn’t.

In that moment, Jey wasn’t thinking about his own struggles, his own pain. He wasn’t thinking about the mess of his life, the way he had been spiraling out of control, or how he had tried so hard to numb himself. All he could think about was her—how she felt in his arms, how she fit against him like she was made to be there. The way she needed him, and the way he needed her.

Rhea’s grip on him tightened, just slightly, and he felt it deep within him. She wasn’t just holding on for comfort—she was holding on because, in some way, she trusted him. She trusted him with her pain, her fears, her brokenness. And that was something Jey had never felt before—being trusted, being the person someone turned to when the world felt too heavy.

She stayed silent for a few long moments, her face still pressed against his chest, and Jey let her take all the time she needed. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

Finally, her voice broke through the stillness. “Thank you,” she whispered, her words emitting calm.

Jey’s heart ached at the simplicity of it. He didn’t need her thanks. He just needed her to know that he was here, always. “Anytime,” he whispered back, his voice rough, but sincere. “You don’t ever have to ask. I’ll always be here for you.”

The words felt like a promise, a silent vow he would keep, no matter what. The kind of promise that anchored him to her, to this moment, to everything they had yet to figure out together. But for now, all that mattered was the two of them—together, in the quiet space they had created, where the world couldn’t touch them, where they could just be.

Rhea’s body relaxed slightly, and Jey felt her breathe in deep, like she was finally letting go of something heavy, something she had been carrying for far too long. He stayed with her, holding her, not wanting to let go.

Rhea slowly pulled herself away from Jey’s embrace, her mind still swirling in the calmness that came with being held by him. Jey, however didn’t let her go as he kept his arms wrapped around her. She looked up, meeting his chocolate eyes with her cyan ones. For a moment, neither of them spoke, as if the silence between them was enough to say everything they couldn’t put into words. The air around them seemed to hold its breath, and the world outside their bubble seemed miles away.

Jey, with his heart pounding in his chest, looked at her and whispered, “You are… very, very beautiful, Rhea.” The words were simple, yet they hit her in a way she hadn’t expected. They made her feel seen—truly seen—in a way no one else had before. But she didn’t know how to respond. The warmth from his embrace lingered on her skin, and she found herself at a loss for words.

Rhea took in his features, his strong jawline, the way the sunlight made his hair look almost golden, the faint lines around his eyes that spoke of a life lived fully. She then spoke softly, her voice full of sincerity. “Your soul is more beautiful, Jey.” It was the truth. There was something about him that drew her in, something beyond just his physical appearance. His kindness, his vulnerability, the way he made her feel safe, even in her messiest moments.

The silence between them deepened, and they both stood still, neither one of them moving, as if caught in a moment where neither knew what to do next—or perhaps, as if they knew all too well. Rhea tilted her head slightly, studying his face as if trying to understand the depth of what was unfolding between them. Jey did the same, his gaze never leaving hers.

But before either of them could make another move, the air was shattered by a voice calling out, “Josh!” The sound of Jey’s real name was like a bucket of cold water thrown over both of them, breaking the fragile connection they had shared. Rhea flinched, her heart racing at the sudden intrusion. She turned to see Jey’s twin brother, Jon, walking toward them with Trinity by his side. The sight of them brought a sharp sense of reality crashing down on Rhea, her breath catching in her throat.

Jey quickly unhooked his arms from around her, his posture stiffening as he turned to face his brother. The moment they had shared evaporated in an instant.

Jon’s voice was sharp, his frustration evident as he approached. “What the hell are you doing here?” His eyes flicked to Rhea, and then back to Jey, as if trying to make sense of the scene before him.

Jey, defensive, stood his ground. “Nothing. We were just talking.”

Jon wasn’t having it. “Get the fuck in your car and go home.” His words were harsh, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Rhea felt a tight knot form in her stomach as the tension in the air escalated. She could sense the underlying anger in Jon’s voice, and she felt small under his glare.

Jey, his jaw tightening, shot back, “You don’t have to tell me what to do.” There was an edge to his voice, but his gaze flickered to Rhea for a brief moment, as if silently asking for her forgiveness.

But Jon wasn’t backing down. His words were louder this time, tinged with authority. “As your LEGAL GUARDIAN, I have to! Now get the fuck in your car and go home!” His voice was like steel, firm and unwavering.

Jey looked at Rhea one last time, his expression filled with regret and apology. His lips barely moved as he mouthed, “I’m sorry.” It was a silent plea, a silent apology for what had just happened. Rhea wanted to say something, wanted to reach out, but the words got stuck in her throat.

Jon turned his attention back to her, his expression softening just slightly, though there was still a hardness to his words. “I understand mental health and everything, so I’m gonna keep this very brief,” he said, his tone now more controlled but still stern. “Just focus on your own journey to healing and leave my brother out of this.” There was a finality to his statement, as if he had made his peace with the situation and wasn’t willing to entertain any further discussion.

With that, Jon and Trinity turned and walked away, leaving Rhea standing by the lake, her heart heavy with the weight of the confrontation. The peacefulness of the water and the trees around her seemed to mock her, the serenity of it all compared to the storm brewing inside her.

Rhea didn’t know what to feel anymore. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—guilt, confusion, longing—and all she wanted was to make sense of what had just happened. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and most of all, she felt unsure of what the future held with Jey. Could they really have what she had been craving for so long? Or was everything just an illusion, a fleeting moment she couldn’t hold onto?

The distance between her and Jey felt like a chasm now, and she wasn’t sure if she could cross it.

—

Jey’s grip on the railing tightened as his heart raced. He had barely stepped foot in the house when he heard Jon’s voice calling out his name. The weight of his brother’s tone made Jey’s stomach churn, but he kept walking, ignoring the tension in the air. The last thing he wanted was to engage in another heated argument, but Jon wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily.

“Joshua!” Jon called again, his voice sharp and cutting through the silence.

Jey stopped mid-step, his body tensing, but he didn’t turn around immediately. “What?” he said, the words coming out harsher than he meant them to.

Jon didn’t waste time. He was already standing at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes narrowed with frustration. “What the fuck was that?”

Jey exhaled sharply, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips. “It was nothing.” His voice was flat, like he was trying to dismiss the whole thing, but the anger simmered just beneath the surface.

Jon wasn’t buying it. He stepped closer, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowing even further. “Really? Because it looked like you two were recreating some fucking romance scene!”

Jey’s chest tightened. He had no idea what Jon had seen, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to explain himself. Not to Jon, not to anyone. “I don’t have to tell you anything,” he bit out, his voice laced with defiance.

Jon’s face twisted with disbelief, his frustration boiling over. “Do you even care about getting better?” he asked, his voice rising, the weight of the question settling heavily between them.

Jey stopped in his tracks. His pulse thudded in his ears as he glared at his twin, trying to keep his emotions in check. “I do,” he said, his voice quieter, but no less firm. “I’m trying.”

Jon shook his head, stepping closer, his voice growing even more heated. “Well, start acting like it! You’ve put this family through the wringer and for what? To blow it off and go hang out with another mental person?”

Jey’s heart pounded in his chest at the words. “She’s not mental!” he snapped, the anger flaring up again. His fists clenched at his sides as he took a step toward Jon. “You don’t get to call her that!”

Jon’s eyes flickered with frustration, but there was something else behind them too—concern, maybe even a hint of fear. His voice becoming calmer but no less firm. “Jey… do you realize what I’ve been through? What Trinity’s been through? What mom and dad have been through?”

The words hit Jey like a punch to the gut. He stood there, unable to respond immediately, his mind swirling with everything Jon had said. He knew. Of course, he knew. They never let him forget it. His brother, his parents, everyone around him always reminded him of what they had gone through. It was like a constant weight on his shoulders, like he could never get a break.

“Yes, I know,” Jey said, his voice barely above a whisper, the frustration seeping through. “You guys never let me forget it!”

Jon’s face softened for a second, his gaze shifting from anger to something that almost looked like pity. But the moment passed quickly, and he stepped forward again, his voice tightening with urgency. “So why are you trying to ruin it?” His words cut through the air, leaving Jey frozen in place.

Jey’s chest tightened, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He didn’t know how to answer Jon’s question. Was he ruining everything? Was that what he was doing? He could feel the weight of his brother’s disappointment bearing down on him, and it was almost too much to handle. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone. He didn’t want to hurt his family anymore. But at the same time, he couldn’t ignore what he was feeling, what he wanted.

He wanted to be there for Rhea. He wanted to be more than just a support system for her. But what did that mean for him? What did it mean for his family? Was he making a mistake?

He didn’t have the answers, but he knew he couldn’t keep going on like this—torn between his own needs and the expectations of those around him. He felt lost. So lost.

Jon was still standing there, watching him, waiting for a response. Jey opened his mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he simply stood there, overwhelmed by everything swirling inside of him.

Jon sighed heavily, the tension between them thickening. “You need to figure this out, Jey. Because I don’t know how much more I can take of this. I’m trying to keep you together, keep this family together, but you can’t keep doing this.”

Jey wanted to say something, to argue, to defend himself, but he couldn’t. The weight of it all pressed down on him too hard. He turned away, his head spinning, his emotions too raw to confront right now.

Jey swung open his bedroom door, the familiar weight of his thoughts pressing down on him as he stepped inside. His hand gripped the doorframe for a second, like he was trying to steady himself before stepping into the storm that was his mind.

Jon followed him into the room, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. The silence between them stretched thin, and Jey didn’t know how to fill it. The argument with Jon still simmered in the air, both of them too stubborn to let it go just yet.

Jey threw himself onto the bed with a soft huff, tossing the Rubik’s cube he had been fiddling with earlier into his hands. He didn’t care about solving it—didn’t care about anything right now. He just needed something to do, something to occupy his mind, because the moment he stopped moving, everything else would catch up to him.

Jon stood by the door for a moment before sighing deeply, his tone softer now, though still thick with concern. “I get it,” Jon said, his voice quieter than it had been downstairs. “It’s different, the way she makes you feel and all that… I see it, Jey. And I do want that for you. I want you to find someone who makes you feel good, someone who can help you heal. But just not now.”

Jey paused for a moment, the Rubik’s cube still in his hands, his fingers pressing on the colorful squares without any real intent. His gaze flicked over to Jon, but he didn’t meet his brother’s eyes. Instead, he studied the puzzle in his hands, his thoughts too scattered to piece together any meaningful response.

“Not now?” Jey echoed quietly, his voice betraying the confusion that he couldn’t shake. “Why not?”

Jon took a few steps forward, the creak of the floorboards under his weight echoing in the silence. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his posture rigid, though his voice remained calm. “Because you’re still… you’re still figuring this out, man. I know you want to rush through it, but you can’t. You can’t just jump into something with her when you haven’t even figured out what you need for yourself. You need to focus on you right now. Not her. Not anyone.”

Jey’s hands tightened around the Rubik’s cube, the plastic digging into his palm. He wanted to throw it across the room, but he didn’t. He just kept twisting it in his hands, the repetitive motion grounding him in some small way.

“But what if I need her?” Jey asked, his voice low. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Jon or to himself. “What if I do need her?”

Jon’s expression softened, though there was a sadness behind his eyes that Jey could see even in the dim light of the room. “I’m not saying you don’t deserve a significant other…” Jon replied, his voice steady, but the weight of his words still carried. “I’m saying that if you really want to get better, if you really want to move forward… you have to put yourself first. You can’t rely on someone else to fix everything for you. I know you feel connected to her, but she’s got her own shit going on, too. You don’t want to drag her into the mess you’re still trying to sort through. You’re not ready.”

Jey’s chest tightened at Jon’s words. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand—he did, more than Jon knew. He knew he wasn’t whole, not yet, not after everything that had happened. But the thought of walking away from Rhea, of pulling back when he finally felt like he was starting to find something that could make him feel alive again, was suffocating. He had already formed that bond with her in the little time he had.

“I don’t know how to do this alone anymore,” Jey admitted, his voice shaking just a little as he looked down at the cube in his hands. “I don’t know how to be alone. But when I’m with her… it’s like I can breathe. I don’t feel like I’m drowning. She gets it, Jon. She understands me.”

Jon’s gaze softened, and for a moment, Jey saw the weight of his brother’s protective love for him. Jon wasn’t trying to push him away. He was trying to keep him safe. Trying to make sure he didn’t fall into something he wasn’t ready for.

“I know you feel that way,” Jon said, his voice quieter now, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. “But you can’t lean on someone else to fill the hole inside of you, Jey. I don’t want you to get hurt. And I don’t want her to get hurt either.”

Jey exhaled slowly, the frustration of the last few days settling in his chest. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the ache to fade, but it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t go away.

“I just don’t want to lose her,” Jey whispered, the weight of his fear coming through in the quietest of tones.

Jon nodded, understanding in his eyes. “and I need you to find yourself first..”

Jey sat in silence, the Rubik’s cube still clutched tightly in his hands, as the weight of his brother’s words lingered in the room.

—

Rhea approached the door to her apartment, her shoulders heavy with the weight of the day. As she stepped inside, the faint sound of arguing reached her ears. She closed the door softly, but Liv and Raquel’s voices filled the small space, their heated conversation cutting through the air.

“I can’t believe you’re defending this!” Raquel snapped, her frustration clear.

“I’m not defending anything, I’m just—” Liv tried, but Raquel shook her head and stormed toward the bedroom.

“Raquel, wait!” Liv called after her, but her wife disappeared into their room, slamming the door behind her.

Liv sighed deeply, her hands on her hips, before noticing Rhea standing by the door. “Rhea, can we talk?” she asked, her tone calmer but laced with exhaustion.

Rhea nodded and made her way to the small dining table, sitting down. Liv joined her, pulling out the chair across from her.

“Why did you go to the lake?” Liv asked carefully, folding her hands on the table.

Rhea shrugged. “I told you, I just wanted to think.”

Liv raised an eyebrow. “Raquel saw you. She saw you hugging Jey.”

Rhea stiffened slightly but kept her expression neutral. “It’s not a big deal.”

Liv sighed. “I thought this was just a ‘two friends’ kind of thing.”

“It is!” Rhea snapped, her voice defensive.

“Then why do I feel like I’m getting chewed out by my wife for letting our little darkness queen,” Liv gestured toward Rhea, “get too close to a certain Samoan?”

Rhea leaned back, crossing her arms. “Liv, I just want to talk to someone else. Someone who’s not you or Raquel. Is that such a crime?”

Liv softened but didn’t back down. “I understand that, Rhea. I do. But if you want to talk to someone, talk in group. Share there.”

“I don’t want to tell my business to strangers,” Rhea shot back, her frustration bubbling over.

Liv sighed again, rubbing her temples. “I know this is really hard, but—”

“You don’t know anything!” Rhea interrupted, her voice cracking slightly. “You don’t understand!”

Liv’s head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t understand? Have you thought about how we felt when we found you in that bathtub?”

Rhea’s breath caught in her throat. Her gaze dropped to her wrists, now lined with fresh beginning scars that disrupted the beautiful tattoos she had once been so proud of. The silence between them grew heavy.

Liv’s voice softened but remained firm. “We love you, Rhea. We just want to protect you. So, I think it’s best if you turn your location back on for us. And we’re going to set a curfew—9:30 PM.”

Rhea didn’t argue. She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and handed it to Liv. Liv took it without another word, turning on the location and setting the curfew.

“Done,” Liv said, sliding the phone back across the table.

Rhea grabbed it and walked to her room, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click. She dropped onto her bed, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. Grabbing a pillow, she buried her face into it and screamed, muffling the sound.

The pillow absorbed her frustration, but her tears soaked through. Lying there, clutching the pillow, she let the emotions she had been holding back finally break free, if only for a little while.

Rhea pulled her pillow away from her face, startled by the sound of her phone’s FaceTime notification. She glanced at the screen and saw Jey’s name. With a shaky hand, she wiped her face, quickly attempting to compose herself before answering.

As soon as the call connected, Jey’s concerned face filled the screen. “Yo, what’s wrong? Why you crying?” he asked, his brows furrowed, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

Rhea sniffled, trying to hold back another wave of tears. “Liv and Raquel got mad at me. They turned my location back on and gave me a curfew like I’m a damn teenager.”

Jey frowned, tilting his head slightly. “What? Why’d they do that?”

“They saw us at the lake,” Rhea muttered, her voice small. “Raquel saw us hugging, and now they’re acting like I can’t be trusted.”

Jey sighed, running a hand down his face. “That’s messed up. It’s not like we were doin’ anything wrong.”

“Exactly!” Rhea exclaimed, her voice cracking with emotion. “But they don’t get it. They don’t get how much I needed that. How much I needed someone else to just… listen.”

Jey leaned closer to the camera, his tone softening. “I get it, though. I do. And I’m sorry they’re coming down on you like that. You don’t deserve that.”

Rhea’s lips trembled as she whispered, “I feel like I’m suffocating, Jey. I can’t even breathe without them hovering over me.”

Jey nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. “It’s hard, I know. But they’re just scared, Rhea. Scared of losing you again. That’s all it is.”

Rhea looked away from the screen, her eyes focusing on the wall. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It’s like they’re punishing me for trying to heal.”

Jey’s voice was steady, grounding. “Nah, they’re just trying to help in their own way, even if it don’t feel like it. But you don’t have to do this alone, Rhea. You got me now, remember?”

Her eyes flicked back to the screen, meeting his warm gaze. “You mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” Jey said without hesitation. “Whenever you need someone to talk to, you hit me up, alright? Don’t let it bottle up. I’m here for you.”

Rhea nodded slowly, a small, fragile smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Thanks, Jey.”

“Anytime,” he said, his smile matching hers. “Now, you want me to distract you for a bit? We can talk about somethin’ else, or I can tell you some dumb story to make you laugh.”

Rhea chuckled lightly, wiping her face again. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Jey grinned. “Alright, bet. Let me tell you about the time Jon thought he could outrun a dog and ended up stuck in a tree…”

As Jey launched into the story, Rhea let herself relax, the sound of his laughter and the lightness in his voice providing the escape she so desperately needed. For a little while, it felt like the weight on her chest wasn’t quite as heavy.

—

Flashback: Central Florida Behavioral Hospital, Miami, FL. January 2nd, 2025, 1:28 AM.

Rhea sat in the cold, clinical white room, her body folded in on itself as though trying to disappear. Dressed in white scrubs and hospital socks, her bandaged wrists rested limply in her lap. Her hair hung in tangled strands, and her cyan eyes were bloodshot from countless hours of tears and exhaustion.

The door opened quietly, and a woman entered, holding a notepad and a small briefcase. She was dressed in soft purple sweats that stood out against the sterile backdrop. Her kind smile radiated warmth as she approached and took a seat across from Rhea.

“Hello,” the woman said gently. “I’m Marina Martinez. I’m a social worker here at the Central Florida Behavioral Hospital.”

Rhea didn’t respond immediately, her gaze flickering to the woman before dropping back to her hands. “Hi,” she mumbled.

Marina shifted in her chair, adjusting the notepad on her lap. “I know this can be a bit scary at first,” she began, her tone understanding. “But I want to let you know that I’m on your side, Demi.”

Rhea’s head snapped up at the name, her jaw tightening. “I prefer Rhea,” she said sharply, her voice raw but firm.

Marina’s expression softened, though she didn’t waver. “I understand, but unfortunately, policies prevent us from using preferred names during sessions, dear. It’s not personal—it’s just how things are.”

Rhea’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Of course it is,” she muttered bitterly, turning her gaze back to her lap.

Marina clicked her pen and flipped to a blank page on her notepad. Her voice remained steady but professional. “Now, Demi,” she began, emphasizing the name gently, “do you remember why you’re here?”

Rhea’s shoulders tensed, and she hesitated before answering. “Because my best friends found me in the bathtub,” she said flatly, her voice void of emotion.

Marina jotted something down, her pen moving quickly over the page. “And for the record,” she said, her tone neutral but precise, “you’re referring to Gionna Daddio-Gonzalez and her wife, Victoria Gonzalez?”

Rhea nodded stiffly. “Yes. Liv and Raquel.”

Marina’s pen hovered over the page as she studied Rhea’s expression. “And for the record,” she continued, her voice soft but firm, “this is your third suicide attempt in four months?”

Rhea’s breath hitched slightly, but she nodded again, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yeah,” she whispered, barely audible.

Marina leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. “Demi, I know how hard this is to talk about, and I’m not here to judge you. But it’s important for us to acknowledge what’s brought you to this point so we can figure out how to move forward.”

Rhea clenched her fists in her lap, her bandages stark against her tattooed arms. “I don’t know if there is a forward,” she muttered, her voice breaking.

Marina placed her pen down gently and folded her hands in front of her. “I know it might not feel like it right now, but there is always a way forward. And I want to help you find it.”

Rhea looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. “What if I don’t want to?”

Marina met her gaze with unwavering calm. “Then we’ll start with that,” she said simply. “Because even the smallest step is still a step. And as long as you’re here, we’ll take those steps together.”

Rhea swallowed hard, her tears spilling over as she looked away. She didn’t respond, but the faintest nod of her head was enough to signal the smallest glimmer of hope buried deep within her despair.

—

Present Time

On FaceTime, Rhea couldn’t contain her laughter as Jey visibly struggled, choking on a piece of roasted potato. His wide eyes and frantic gestures made her giggle even harder.

“Jey! Swallow it!” she exclaimed through her laughter, clutching her stomach.

Jey disappeared from the camera’s view for a moment, coughing in the background. When he reappeared, his face was red, but he looked more annoyed than anything. “Damn Trinity,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Too much cayenne in this damn food.”

Rhea wiped a tear from her eye as her giggles subsided. “Are you okay now, or are you gonna die on FaceTime?” she teased.

Jey smirked and leaned closer to the camera. “Nah, I’m good. Don’t worry about me.” He speared a piece of chicken on his fork and pointed it at the screen. “What you eating for dinner?”

“Oh,” Rhea replied, brushing her hair out of her face, “Raquel and Liv just ordered Chinese food. Should be here any minute.”

Jey raised an eyebrow and took a bite of his chicken. “They still mad at each other?”

Rhea let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back in her chair. “I don’t even know. I swear, ever since they got married, it’s like they’re on my ass about everything.”

Jey tilted his head, chewing thoughtfully. “They your guardians like Jon is to me?”

Rhea nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah, they are. They took me in when everything happened. I mean, I love them, and I know they mean well, but sometimes…” She trailed off, shrugging. “It’s like I can’t even hit my toe by accident without them asking if I did it on purpose.”

Jey chuckled, resting his chin on his hand. “Tell me about it. Jon’s been on my ass for years now, even before everything happened, like I don’t know how to take care of myself or something.”

Rhea smiled, leaning closer to the screen. “It’s like they think we’re still kids, huh?”

“Exactly,” Jey said, pointing his fork at her. “But hey, at least you got two of them. Double the fun, right?”

Rhea rolled her eyes playfully. “Double the headaches, more like.”

Jey laughed, his deep voice warm and infectious. “Well, at least we got each other to vent to. That counts for something, right?”

“Yeah,” Rhea said softly, her smile lingering. “It does.”

For a moment, the conversation quieted, both of them finding comfort in the easy connection they shared despite their separate chaos.

The soft knock on Rhea’s door broke through the quiet, followed by Raquel’s voice.

“Rhea, food!”

Rhea glanced at her phone, where Jey’s amused expression filled the screen. “Hold on, Jey. Let me go fix my plate. I’ll be right back.”

Jey nodded, leaning back on his bed. “Go for it. I’ll wait for you. I’m almost done with my food anyway.”

Rhea set her phone down on her desk and walked to the kitchen. The familiar sight of white Chinese takeout boxes greeted her. She grabbed a plate and helped herself to a little bit of everything: beef and broccoli, combination fried rice, sesame chicken, and, of course, an egg roll or two. Balancing her plate in one hand, she opened the fridge with the other, pulling out a can of Dr. Pepper.

When she returned to her room, she set the plate down on her desk and sat back down, adjusting the camera so Jey could see her.

Jey, now finished with his food, had his Rubik’s cube in hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up at the sound of the soda can hissing as it opened.

“What you got?” he asked, setting the cube aside.

Rhea held up her plate with a small grin. “A little bit of everything. Beef and broccoli, combination fried rice, some sesame chicken…” She picked up an egg roll and added, “And my favorite: egg rolls.”

Jey chuckled, leaning closer to the camera. “Egg rolls, huh? Solid choice. You dipping that in sweet-and-sour, or just going plain?”

Rhea dipped the egg roll into the sauce and smirked. “Sweet-and-sour, obviously. I’m not a heathen.”

Jey laughed, shaking his head. “Good. I was about to judge you real hard if you said plain.”

“Please, I have standards,” Rhea teased before taking a bite of the egg roll. She chewed thoughtfully, her eyes flicking back to the screen. “What’s your go-to order?”

“Sesame chicken, easy,” Jey said without hesitation. “Egg rolls are mandatory. Maybe some fried wontons if I’m feeling fancy.”

Rhea nodded in approval. “Respect. You have good taste.”

Jey grinned, leaning back against his pillows. “Damn right, I do. But I think the company makes the food even better, you know?”

Rhea’s smile softened as she reached for her soda. “Yeah… I get that.”

For a moment, the conversation lulled into a companionable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled. Rhea took another bite of her egg roll while Jey absentmindedly grabbed and twisted his Rubik’s cube again, both content in the quiet connection they shared.

As Rhea took a bite of the sesame chicken, she gestured toward the Rubik’s cube in Jey’s hand. “How long have you been fiddling with that thing?”

Jey glanced at the cube and then back at her. “This cube?”

Rhea rolled her eyes with a playful grin. “Duhhh.”

He chuckled softly, spinning one side of the cube before setting it down on his lap. “Actually… since my first suicide attempt.”

The lighthearted atmosphere shifted, the weight of his words settling between them. Rhea put her fork down, her brows knitting together. “Oh… Jey, I’m sorry.”

He waved off her concern, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “No worries. It’s… I don’t know how to explain my connection to this little thing.”

Rhea leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle. “Try me.”

Jey rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes fixed on the cube. “It’s like… when everything felt out of control, this was the one thing I could control. You know? The colors, the patterns—it’s all logical. No surprises. If I messed up, I could fix it. If I wanted to start over, I could just scramble it again. It gave me… I don’t know, a sense of stability, I guess.”

Rhea nodded slowly, her gaze softening. “Makes sense. It’s something solid to hold onto.”

“Yeah,” Jey said quietly, his thumb absentmindedly tracing one of the colored squares. “It kept my hands busy when my mind was a mess. I’d sit there, trying to figure out the patterns, and for a little while, I didn’t have to think about everything else.”

Rhea took a deep breath, her own struggles reflected in his words. “I get that. I mean, I don’t have a cube or anything, but… I get needing something to hold onto. Something to keep you from spiraling.”

Jey looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers through the screen. “Yeah. And for me, it’s this cube. It sounds dumb, I know, but—”

“It’s not dumb,” Rhea interrupted firmly. “Not at all. If it helps you, it’s not dumb. Don’t let anyone make you feel like it is.”

Jey’s smile widened just a fraction, his gaze softening. “Thanks, Rhea. That means a lot.”

She smiled back, picking up her fork again. “Anytime. And, for the record, I think it’s pretty cool you have something like that. I might need to get one for myself.”

Jey laughed lightly, his voice carrying a hint of relief. “You should. I’ll teach you how to solve it. Might take you a while, though.”

“Oh, please,” Rhea teased, her grin returning. “I’d have it figured out in no time.”

“We’ll see about that,” Jey shot back, the playful energy returning to their conversation as they eased back into their lighthearted banter.

After Rhea had long finished her food, she lay in bed, her room dimly lit by her small bedside lamp. The rest of the room was cloaked in darkness. Her phone rested propped against a book on her nightstand as Jey’s face filled the screen. He lay back in his bed, AirPods in, the glow of his own bedside lamp casting shadows across his face.

Jey broke the silence, his voice soft but heavy with thought. “Do you miss wrestling?”

Rhea stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering. “I do… but even then, I didn’t feel like I had control over it.”

Jey shifted slightly, his expression unreadable. “I don’t miss it.”

Rhea turned her head to face the phone, her brow furrowed. “What do you mean? You’re hella over, Jey. Everybody’s wondering when you’re coming back.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, but… what if I don’t want to come back?”

“What do you mean?” Rhea asked, sitting up slightly, concern creeping into her tone.

Jey sighed, running a hand down his face. “What’s wrestling ever done for me, Rhea? Look at me. I don’t have no kids, no wife… hell, not even a girlfriend. What do I have to show for it? A fucked-up mentality and consistent nightmares. That’s what.”

Rhea sat up fully now, clutching her pillow tightly. “Jey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

But before she could finish, Jey muttered, “It’s fine,” and abruptly ended the FaceTime call.

The screen went black, and Rhea stared at her reflection in the now-dark phone. She bit her lip, her heart sinking. She hadn’t meant to trigger him, but his outburst left her feeling uneasy.

Leaning back against her pillows, Rhea let out a frustrated sigh, her thoughts racing. She grabbed her phone, debating whether to text him or give him space. After a few moments, she set it down without sending anything.

She whispered into the quiet of her room, “I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

Her words hung in the air as she lay back down, staring at the ceiling, her mind unable to settle as the weight of Jey’s words lingered in her chest.

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