#kitchen rolling shutter

[rehauindia]

Rolling Shutter for Kitchen, Glass Profile PVC Shutters Door in India

Kitchen rolling shutter from a German-based manufacturer brand in India. REHAU provides premium profile glass shutters with ‘plug & play’ with easy installation.

[ratatatastic]

just guys being dudes

florida panthers @ edmonton oilers game 3 pregame | 6.13.24 (x)

[satoriconsultingworld-blog]

How Satori EsyRolling Shutters Are Revolutionizing Modular Kitchen Designs in India

A well-designed kitchen is more than just a cooking space — it’s the heart of the home. With the growing popularity of modular kitchen designs, homeowners are looking for innovative solutions that enhance both aesthetics and functionality. One such revolutionary upgrade is the modular kitchen shutter, which plays a crucial role in ensuring a sleek and organized kitchen space.

Among the leading innovations in this space, Satori EsyRolling Shutters stand out as a game-changer. These stylish rolling shutters for kitchens provide the perfect blend of modern design, ease of use, and durability, making them a must-have for contemporary kitchens.

The Importance of Modular Kitchen Shutters

Traditional kitchen cabinets often come with hinged doors, which can be inconvenient in compact kitchen layouts. They require extra space for opening and closing, making the kitchen feel cluttered and less functional. In contrast, a rolling shutter for modular kitchens is a smart, space-saving solution that allows for smooth vertical movement, eliminating the need for swinging doors.

Why Modular Kitchen Shutters Are Essential?

1. Space Optimization

Rolling shutters open vertically, making them ideal for small and large kitchens alike.

They provide easy access to storage areas without interfering with surrounding cabinets or appliances.

2. Sleek and Stylish Appeal

A stylish rolling shutter for kitchens adds a modern touch, giving the kitchen a seamless and clutter-free look.

Available in a variety of finishes, including matte, glossy, and frosted glass, they complement any kitchen design.

Smooth and Quiet Operation

Unlike traditional cabinet doors that may creak over time, rolling shutters for modular kitchens operate silently and effortlessly.

Equipped with high-quality mechanisms, they ensure long-lasting performance.

3. Durability and Low Maintenance

Made from premium materials like aluminum, glass, and PVC, these shutters are resistant to moisture, dust, and grease.

They require minimal cleaning, making them perfect for busy kitchens.

SATORI KITCHEN ESY ROLLING SHUTTERS COLOR CHART

How Satori EsyRolling Shutters Are Transforming Modular Kitchens

As a leader in kitchen innovations, Satori EsyRolling Shutters are setting new standards for modern kitchen designs in India. Designed with precision and high-quality materials, these shutters provide superior functionality and style.

Key Features of Satori EsyRolling Shutters

Ergonomic Design: Enhances convenience with easy access to kitchen storage.

Customizable Options: Available in different colors, finishes, and sizes to match diverse kitchen aesthetics.

High-Quality Mechanism: Ensures smooth, noise-free operation with long-lasting durability.

Easy Maintenance: Resistant to stains, moisture, and wear, making them ideal for Indian kitchens.

Advantages of Using Rolling Shutters in Modular Kitchens

Perfect for Compact Kitchens

Indian homes, especially urban apartments, often have limited kitchen space.

Satori EsyRolling Shutters help maximize every inch by eliminating the need for outward-opening doors.

2. Enhances Kitchen Organization

These shutters provide easy access to frequently used items while keeping the kitchen neat.

They can be installed in upper cabinets, appliance garages, or pantry units.

3. Aesthetic Versatility

Whether you prefer a minimalistic or luxurious look, these shutters can be customized to match your kitchen’s theme.

4. Boosts Property Value

A well-designed modular kitchen with stylish rolling shutters for kitchens enhances the overall appeal of your home.

Potential buyers often look for modern, space-saving kitchen solutions, making this an excellent investment.

Conclusion

A rolling shutter for modular kitchens is more than just a functional feature — it’s an essential element that enhances the kitchen’s efficiency and aesthetics. With their innovative design, Satori EsyRolling Shutters are redefining modular kitchen storage, offering homeowners a seamless blend of style, convenience, and durability.

If you’re looking to upgrade your kitchen with modular kitchen shutters, consider investing in Satori EsyRolling Shutters for a clutter-free, modern, and highly functional space. Elevate your kitchen experience with the best rolling shutters designed for contemporary living!

[vmsplusblog]

[vmsplus]

Types of Different Kitchen Cabinet Shutters | VMS Trade Link

A modular kitchen comprises individual cabinets manufactured in the factory and assembled at home, including the modular kitchen shutters. Each kitchen cabinet shutter has a structural framework, an inner box made of core material like marine plywood or MDF (medium-density fibreboard) or engineered wood, and an outer shutter. This is what you see on the outside, and your choice of kitchen shutter designs will define how your modular kitchen will look.

[polymorphen]

Dallas Outdoor Kitchen Outdoor Kitchen Image of a medium-sized, exquisite stone patio kitchen in the backyard with an addition to the roof

[unluckilyimnot]

slow morning w/ sae, rin, hiori, kaiser

note: Omori's Kel mentioned, pet name 'love' used with Hiori. After some time writing for them, i thought i'll get back to it with something cute. i just read the chapters i missed, i'm in a huge bllk brainrot again

m.list | rules

Sae

It rarely happens, Sae staying in bed after 7 in the morning – that's usually the later he can handle. So when you feel his arms wrapped around you again after you roll to the other side, leaving him space to get up slowly after you feel him switch, there's a warm feeling spreading through your body. You turn around, nesting your head on the crock of his neck with small, bubbling sounds that make his heart soften every time. He holds you closer, if possible, and you swear if you could you'll start purring the second his fingers go through your hair, scratching your scalp lightly without touching any sensible era. You feel your mind drifting away slowly again, but you don't resist it. Instead you enjoy his soft attention until you fall asleep again.

When you wake up, Sae's sitting on the edge of the bed by your side. His hand goes kindly through your hair again, but this time he's fully dressed and you can smell coffee on his hand when it brushes your cheek. 

"Breakfast's ready," he said rather blankly but you perceive the softness in his eyes. You rub against his hand. 

"What time is it ?" 

"Around 9 and a half ." There's no way on earth he's waiting this long.

"You've eaten already?"

"No." You can't help but smile at his words, feeling your heart skipping a beat. He really waited for you. 

So got up quickly, putting on some shorts and one of his sweaters he kindly handed you before following him to the living room. Breakfast is settled on the low table in front of the TV playing whatever kid shows aired at that time. On the rare morning and breakfast you share with Sae, it is an obligation to watch this – that helps him clear his mind, he says, since he doesn't have to think.

You sit next to him and pull your tray on his tights, wandering around it a little before eating some rice first. You could find all the things you liked, along with some rice because he'll never put that away. 

Keeping only your cup of coffee after being done with most of the food on the tray, you put it back to the table and lay on his shoulder, enjoying the small contact the best. Enjoying this whole morning at its fair value, because you had no idea when this would happen again. 

Kaiser 

"We have to get up," Michael said seriously for like, the fifth time, but you still wouldn't get up from your lying state on top of his body. He's so warm and cuddly, how could he ask you that ?

"Not yet," you mumble, face down in his chest.

"It's literally 11," he objected, desperate to just get up and get, at least, his running routine done today. "Don't 'no yet' me. I have things to do." 

Without any warnings, he tossed you to the side and went straight to the window, opening the shutters. You shouted at him not to, but it was too late and when he looked back at you again, you were now just a ball below the cover, whining at the "holy light". He held his laugh, he couldn't let you know how cute and funny you were while doing this when he was, supposedly, mad at you. But God he loved it.

Without any further goals in this room, he left for the kitchen and started making your breakfast for you until you were ready to face the sunlight. It never took you too long, so he wasn't worried. He took his time, putting coffee on the heat stove until it was ready, preparing both your salty and sweet parts of it along his, despite not eating the same things. Before he was even done, your arms were already wrapped around his waist, still whining at the light burning your eyes. 

He really liked it, morning like this. It was dear to his heart, sweet moments with you that was worth putting his career aside for a day. He was scared he got too used to it, scared this could vanish but, still, he couldn't imagine a world without you anymore.

Hiori 

On his resting days, Hiori likes to lay in bed longer than he should. He becomes one with the blanket, looking more like a giant worm than your boyfriend. You know he'd die to have you stuck in his arms until he's fully awake, which you don't mind most of the time, but the rare time you're awake before him it's a living nightmare not being able to simply turn around and take your phone to wait. So you flee away from the bed without making any noises, getting dressed in the living room so you can be the one, for once, making breakfast. 

You took your time, leaving him to enjoy his day off a little longer but you still couldn't let him sleep all day – he'll be mad at himself. Preparing it all, you cracked some eggs and let them cook before moving to toast some bread and cut avocados. You make sure to not boil the water for his tea, preparing it last in fact to be sure he has it while it's still fuming like he likes.

It was almost done when his arms held you from behind, his head laying on top of yours. You turned the kettle on, his cup only waiting for the warm water. 

"Are you ok with avocado toast ? We still had two that were done. It didn't want to waste them," you started but your rumble fell into deaf ears when his lips began drawing patterns along your neck, straight to your shoulder, making you giggle. 

"That's perfect," he answered, purring in your ear when his face rested on your shoulder, looking down at the pretty plate you just made. "Thank you, love."

You can't help but look away, even if he can't really see you. You pull him with you when you move, since he's glued to your back now it seems. You pour his drink, and proceed to ask him where he wants to eat ; you're not surprised when he murmurs in front of the let's play you two started not so long ago. 

"You put this on and I bring it all there ?" you proposed cheerfully. He lets you go with a grunt, kissing your head quickly before leaving with you on his tracks with two cups. He already saw it, but he loves the story so much he wanted to share it with you. You actually liked it a lot, it was easy to watch and the story was amazing. You two easily spend hours sitting in front of it. 

"I'm so sad Kel loses his rock," you commented, your breakfast long forgotten and his arms holding you close. 

"Yeah, I was too the first time," he grinned, kissing your head again. "Don't worry, he'll get over it though." 

You nod, believing him.

Rin 

A slow morning with Rin is whatever he wants it to be, so if you ask anyone else, they would tell you that this has nothing to do with a slow morning. He wakes up early, no matter how hard you try to keep him in bed with you – but you know you're getting better at it 'cause it's harder every time for him to say no. He takes a long shower, washing his hair thoughtfully and taking care of his skin. He spends a lot of time in the bathroom, between shaving and doing his skincare, before doing some meditation in the living room so he knows it won't bother your sleep.

By the time he's done, you're usually awake but still groggy, he has to be patient with you. You always fo for him, it doesn't matter if he's barely done or packing his appetite mattress, you'll always lay on him or grab him from behind with a tired hello.

You try to help him cook but you always end up sitting still, half sleeping on the table with a fuming cup of whatever you felt like having this morning ; of course he made it for you. 

The thing is, Rin wants to be done with his routine before you wake up, that way he can let himself enjoy doing nothing in your company for a few hours without feeling bad or in a rush. He likes taking care of you, making things for you, it doesn't matter if you feel like it was too much. You have no idea how much you give him in return. Even if you were not fully awake, you always were the best company he could wish for. You talk about your weird dreams, bring back old situations to talk this out again even if he barely answers you sometimes. 

"That was something for sure, what happened next ?" He asked, giving you your plate and sitting next to you with his, listening to your creepy dream. 

It never gets boring, he always likes to listen to you talking nonsense in the morning.

"Sounds like the beginning of a horror movie," he commented.

"The beginning ?" you gasped, flabbergasted. "More like the most scary scene, please I felt so, so deranged." 

By now you're fully awake and you start doing bigger gestures, give him dirty looks when he disagrees with you and he doesn't do everything he can so you don't see the way he smiles at you. 

So no, his slow morning isn't what most people think it is. But simply having time to talk with you in the morning, without thinking of anything else, is his own definition. 

Let me know if you liked it!

[clawsdevour]

tipsy touch

wc: 1.6k content warning: post-time skip, established relationship, tsukishima x reader, smut, tsukki is almost sober, vulnerable tsukki, oral sex f!receiving, cream pie, not proofread

note: tsukki would so be more needy n vulnerable n genuine w u instead of his stubborn sarcastic personaaaa #CUTE

𐙚᭄.

“Shit..” a low groan enters your house followed by the shutter of the front door clicking. The sound of shoes being taken off before creaking entering the hallway with a subtle clank. You hear the heavy figure slowly stumble down towards the kitchen, stopping when you hear the kitchen sink squeak. The sound of water trailing out from the faucet with a drip.

That sounded like Kei. He must’ve come back home from his little volleyball celebration with his team, you thought to yourself wondering why he came home a bit earlier than you thought but it was nothing really. Work was work, and you knew that due to his busy schedule.

Footsteps echoed along the thin walls and came to a halt at your bedroom door. A quiet knocking at your door, asking for your permission to walk in.

“It’s open,” Tilting your head from behind your book to see if you were correct. Tsukishima’s golden brown eyes behind his dark black frames peeked in through a small sliver of the cracked door. The lighting showed that his expressions were more relaxed than usual, his complex a shade of pink that you don’t see often. 

No wonder why he came home earlier. He was tipsy and knew better than to stay, acknowledging that he’s a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. His heavy body inches closer to your fluffy sheets and plops itself by your closed legs.

“It’s so hot..” Tsukishima muffily complains while trying to shuffle out of his jacket lying on his stomach. Successful, he threw it on the ground while he turnt to lay stomach up to the ceiling trying to catch the whiff of cool air. His chest rising slowly, eyes drooping as the blood in his veins continued to rush towards his face, deepening his already pink complexion.

“How much did you drink this time, Kei?” questioning your husband with a playful huff at the end of your sentence. He’s rarely drunk but whenever he is, he’s really cute and needy. His head tilts in the covers to mutter back at you, “Like.. not much.. I don’t know, but we really need to get a fan in here.” 

You carry on reading your book with a sly smile due to his half drunken state. His hand on his forehead trying to shield his eyes from the lit up light from the corner of your bedroom. Tsukishima’s averting his glossy eyes to the novel in your grasp. Tsukishima slowly rolls back onto his stomach, positioning himself at your closed knees, your eyes peering at him from the top in curiosity.

“What’re you reading?” His vision narrowed, trying to read the title through his slightly blurred eyes in complete focus. A large hand caressing your knee in gentle circles. 

“It’s one of Akaashi’s new works, I think you’d like it a lot.” You gently close the book shut, placing it on your side before reaching to brush through your husband's messy blonde locks of hair. Tsukishima’s hands continue to graze your skin, sending you small shivers from the tips of his warm fingers.

“Hmm.. read it later” mumbling as his lips press against your skin. His other hand places itself under your knee, parting the line that kept your legs close together. 

“Missed you so much today, didn’t get a chance to even kiss you before I left…” he’s pressing sloppy wet kisses onto your inner thighs, sending you small sparks that ignited in your core. His slender fingers continued to roam on your legs as he continued to leisurely separate them off to the side. 

Parted enough for his stature, his hand cups under your knee to lock you in place while his other hand reaches under your silky nightgown. His finger prodding at your panties which had a damp spot, causing you to quietly gasp under your breath. 

His drunken eyes meet with yours asking for your permission, to which you allow his advances. You quickly slip from his grasp to slide down your undergarments and throw them off towards the edge of the bed. His tight clutch is back on your thighs while his face buried itself in between your legs, staring right back at your heat emitting cunt. 

Swirling around your sensitive bud with his hot tongue you can’t help but moan. His sleepy eyes fixated on you with each stroke he makes on your slippery clit. Flicking it up and down, then circling around it before he moved further down towards your entrance. The foreign sensation entering your slick hole while the grasp you held onto the sheets loosens to move onto the back of your husband’s head. Your grip on Tsukishima’s head increased as you pushed him further onto you while you called out for him. 

His tongue’s attacking you aggressively while he’s watching you squirm right in front of him, growing more erect with each whine and whimper that escapes from your mouth. Tsukishima’s lapping up all of your essence when he removes himself from your dripping cunt to insert a finger or two in. You watched as he’s working his long fingers, glossy and sparkling with your juices, in and back out multiple times as you near your high.

The hands wrapped behind your knees increased in strength when he folded them further, pushing you onto your back as he continued to rip out an orgasm out of you. You’re at a breathless mindless state when he does, painting a vision of white as you cum on his digits. His face, red with a smug look and slightly wet from your release.

“Kei..” reaching out your arms for him while his body towered over you for your embrace. His flustered face closes the gap between you, hands still lingering under your silk dress.

Planting a kiss on your lips, you pull back to gaze at him for a moment while his hot alcohol-smelling breath tickles the surface of your cheek. His erection, painfully hard, slightly rubbing onto your radiating core. Sharing an intimate kiss once more before he unbuckles his restraining belt that laid on his waist, letting comfort ease over him when he unclasps the button on his pants. Tsukishima frees his cock, it recoils out and hits the bottom of your stomach causing you to flinch. 

“..Can I?” Nodding out your final answer before tenderly dragging his tip against your soaking wet pussy up and down to collect your fluids. The friction makes you quiver while biting your bottom lip. 

One thrust was all it took for him to shove all of him inside you while you yelped out of shock. He let you adjust to his size for a moment before he further started to rock his hips into you. You're absorbing the feeling of him while he started off at a slow consistent pace, watching his eyes flutter with pleasure from being in your overbearing cunt. 

Tsukishima’s lowering himself onto you, inches away from your body while you wrap your arms around his neck. You could smell the alcohol off his shirt that radiated heat from his overall figure. He’s peppering you with kisses in between grunts as his pace started to grow sloppier but faster. Your ragged gasps mix with the echoing of skin on skin slapping. 

Your pussy’s stretching from all the gradually building up pleasure to accommodate his length, squeezing down when you felt his dick twitch inside you. His cock is plunging back in and out covered in your glistening fluids, making it easier to continue thrusting. His eyes and the effects of alcohol made his longing for you fill with overwhelming ecstasy, heightening his experience as if he was on autopilot. 

Heat building up at the bottom of your stomach once more, breathlessly panting throughout moans that resonated in his ears. All the blood is rushing to his tip, feeling all hot and heavy inside you as Tsukishima’s body continues to surge into yours at full speed.

The way your walls clung tightly onto his erection was all it took for him to understand you were nearing your climax. His lips moved down to caress the crook of your neck, softly sucking on your skin leaving subtle marks along with his pecks here and there. Your nails were digging into his shirt, gripping onto his pace while you took his delicious cock.

“Feel so good.. I’m gonna cum, Kei” babbling out to him with your half lidded gaze. Tsukishima’s golden brown eyes peered at you from your nestled neck to see your adorable expressions twist with each seductive moan that left your lips. 

“M’too.. you’re so cute,” latching his messy kisses onto your jaw. His thumb reaches down to play with your swollen clit to help finish you off. You’re curling your toes while accepting all of the stimulation he’s giving you while you shiver in delight.

You lose your senses when that thread you were holding onto for so long snaps. Creaming all over his cock as it rimmed with a thick white substance, continuously getting pushed back into your cunt. It was like you saw stars in your field of vision when you came. Your arms relax and bounce with each of his remaining thrusts.

“I’m almost there.. don’t worry.” Tsukishima’s breathing is inconsistent and heavy while beads of sweat continue to gather on his forehead. Plummeting his cock at a speedy pace as you laid beneath him, tiredly caressing the bottom of his face.

Loud groans slipped off of Tsukishima’s tongue when his white honey-like liquid spewed into your nether regions. His cum filled you to the brim, leaking out when he slowly removed himself from your swollen cunt. The tall figure looked over you, watching his milky white seed seep down from your gaping hole that twitched to be stuffed once more before collapsing onto you from exhaustion.

His eyelids rested for a second before prying open again to glance at you once more. Buried in your sweet heat, he’s mumbling to you.

“I drank so much.. cause I missed you.” 

masterlist here

[scarlethexelove]

Hey are to taking requests I’m think about g!p Wanda where reader lost her job and feels like she’s good for nothing but Wanda reminds her that she’s good for everything and what it starts very soft ends up being in rough s*x reader ends up being pregnant

Perfect Little Housewife

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2934

Warnings: Poor Reader gets fired, a little bit of depressed reader, crying, comfort, Smut, Wanda has a penis, soft sex, rough sex, Mommy kink, breeding, Wanda calls reader slut once, obviously unprotected sex, a bit of choking, reader gets pregnant.

A/n: I love the request but as a note Anon I would like it if you didn't use the term g!p it can be offensive to some and I try my best to be respectful. So in the future you could either say intersex or just plainly that she has a penis thanks 😊 But I hope you like it cause I did enjoy this one.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

A tear slips down your cheek as you set the box full of your things on the kitchen island. Fired is what just happened to you. Well they said you were being laid off but it is essentially the same thing in your mind. You're so useless that you can’t even keep your job. How are you supposed to support yourself and your wife if you lost your job? You loved your job and were good at it, so out of all the employees why did it have to be you. 

A few more tears fall as you let out a sigh. Your hands are gripping the counter on either side of the box as you look down. On top is a picture of you and your wife on your wedding day. Bright and happy smiles at the prospect of a great future but where is that future now. Tears land on the glass and roll down the front. How are you going to tell Wanda? What is she going to think of you? You're a failure. 

You don’t hear the door or the soft footsteps creeping towards you. You’re so lost in your thoughts of failure that you missed the fact that your wife is home. Wanda walks into the kitchen seeing you hunched over a box and the sounds of your sniffles causing a look of worry to cross her face. “Detka?” Wanda calls out to you. You quickly stand up straighter and wipe furiously at your eyes to clear the fallen tears. You turn around hoping that you have composed yourself enough. “Wanda.” You're a bit shocked to see her home so early. “What’s wrong moya lyubov'.” She rushes over to you having seen your red puffy eyes and the slight shake of your hands. Her hand reaches to gently cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing against the skin tenderly. “N-nothing.” You try to sound more assured of yourself but the slight stutter doesn’t fool your wife. 

Wanda pulls you into her, wrapping her arms around you tightly. You can’t help but let yourself break in her arms. A sob you didn’t know that you were holding in escapes from your lips. You grip the front of Wanda’s shirt tightly as you cry into her shoulder. You can’t help as you cry harder because of how pathetic you are right now. First you lose your job and now you're crying like a baby. But Wanda is soothing, her touch brings you comfort. Her hand gently rubbing at your back as she kisses your head, quiet shushes as she gently rocks you. You don’t know how long you cry for but they eventually calm, Wanda not stopping her menstrations to calm you. 

Once you had completely stopped crying Wanda pulled you back far enough so that she could get a good look at you. She wipes the tears with her thumbs as she cups your face in her hands. “Moya lyubov’ please tell me what’s wrong.” Her voice is soft and so reassuring, but there still is a voice in the back of your head that screams that you are a failure. You let out a shuttered sigh. “I was fired … Well laid off b-but that still means I’m nothing.” You thought you were all done crying but more tears shine in your eyes. “Oh Y/n/n you're not nothing. Detka we will be just fine.” You shake your head pulling away from her grasp. “I’m useless. I can’t even keep my job to help provide for you.. For us. What kind of wife am I? Then here I am bawling like a fucking idiot because of how useless I am.” Your sorrow turns a bit bitter, but not at her but at yourself. 

You're now muttering and pacing around at how bad of a wife you are and how pathetic you are. Wanda hates to see you so down on yourself. “Detka.” Wanda tries to get your attention but you don’t even acknowledge her. “Y/n/n.” She tries again but it's still the same. “Y/n!” She is louder and more assertive which causes you to stop in your tracks. Wanda takes this as a chance. She grabs your hips and turns you, pressing your back against the island. “Y/n, sweetheart you are not pathetic or a failure. They were stupid for letting you go.” She gives you a kind and reassuring smile. She helps calm you down with her soft voice and soft touches. 

Wanda leans in kissing your lips softly. “You are beautiful, kind, and amazing. I love you so much. You can stay home or you can come work for me if you really want to.” She pecks your lips constantly throughout her words. She knows just how to soften you up to bring you off of the ledge. “Okay.” You breathe out. Wanda kisses you again pouring all of her love for you into that single kiss. 

You two slowly make out in the kitchen. A need for comfort turning into a need for one another. Wanda easily lifts you onto the counter. You let your legs fall open and Wanda slots herself between them. She smiles into the kiss at your action before she is licking at your bottom lip asking for entrance. You gladly allow her access. A moan escapes your throat as Wanda’s tongue meets yours and she grinds her hips into yours. You can already feel her growing bulge. 

Your hands move down and start to fiddle with the button on Wanda’s pants. You struggle to focus on the kiss as you try to undo her pants. “Please.” You whimper against her lips as you fidget. She smirks, moving to push your hands away and undoing her pants swiftly. But she lets them sit around her hips revealing the top of her boxer shorts. You try to push her pants down but she stops you. Clicking her tongue. “Not yet detka. Mommy wants to see you.” You whine but nod. Wanda reaches to take off your shirt which you help by lifting your arms. 

Wanda’s lips meet yours again in another soft kiss. Her hand reached around your back and unhooked your bra. She doesn’t break the kiss as she pulls it down your shoulders and completely off. Her hands now take their place kneading at your breast. You moan in her mouth as she works you up. Gently kneading before her fingers pinch and twist at your sensitive nipples. “Ahh Mommy.” Your hips buck against hers feeling her cock straining against its fabric confines. “Please.” You whimper. 

Wanda moans as you buck into her. “Since you asked so nicely detka.” Wanda’s hands move down and hook into the hem of your pants and underwear. You lift your hips slightly allowing her to pull them both down in one fell swoop. She steps back to pull them all the way off and toss them to the side with the rest of your clothes. She can already see your wetness smearing on your thighs making her groan. You reach out for her wanting her close but she doesn’t move. Her eyes meet yours before she pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it to the side before she reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra letting it fall from her shoulders onto the floor. You so desperately want to touch her and for her to touch you that you let out a whine giving her grabby hands. Wanda clicks her tongue at you. “Patiences moya lyubov’.” She smirks at your neediness. Wanda then pushes her pants down her legs. You can now see her strained cock and the small wet spot of precum that has stained her boxers.

It takes everything in you not to just jump off the counter and rid Wanda of the rest of her clothing. But not soon after Wanda is pushing her boxers down to meet her pants around her ankles. Her cock slapped against her lower stomach. She kicks her clothes from around her ankles off and slots herself back between your waiting legs. Wanda pumps her cock a few times before swiping through your folds stopping to gently nudge at your pulsing clit. You both moan at the action. 

“Fuck malyshka you’re so wet for me.” Wanda groans as she teases your folds. “Mommy please.” You wrap your legs around her waist pulling her closer. Wanda’s desire finally wins over as she presses the tip against your entrance. She slowly pushes in. Your walls stretch to accommodate her size. Your body's desire to be stretched and filled by your wife. She keeps pushing until she is all the way in your warm walls eloping her length. Both of you moan when her hips meet yours. 

You wrap your arms around Wanda’s shoulders lacing your fingers through her hair pulling her into a kiss. As you lips meet Wanda begins to gently thrust into you. She begins to fuck you at a steady pace. Each thrust deep and precise, hitting the spongy spot deep inside of you. Whimpers and moans being swallowed by Wanda’s mouth. 

The sensual moment between the two of you as Wanda doesn’t just fuck you but makes love to you. No matter where you are in life you will always be the most important thing in Wanda’s life. She wants you to feel all of that. This isn’t about being horny it is about showing you how much she loves and cherishes you. All you can hope to do is reflect the same amount of love that she has for you back to her. 

Wanda’s hips keep their steady pace as you continue to softly make out with one another. It’s messy but filled with love. Her arms wrap tightly around you and pull you impossibly closer to her. Your mutual moans being swallowed by the other as you grind back. Your fingers gripping her hair as you break to catch your breath. She leans her forehead against yours. Her eyes looking down to where your two bodies are joined. Small pants as she thrusts perfectly angeling herself every time. “Such a good girl for Mommy. I love you so much detka.” Wanda mumbles against your lips as she gives you a kiss. “Lo-Love you too Mommy.” You mumble breathily. 

Your walls tighten around Wanda’s length as the knot in your lower abdomen tightens. Getting closer to the edge of release. Wanda right there with you, her thrust becoming a bit more sloppy. Your walls clamp around her as her length twitches inside of you. She grinds into you as she thrust in, pleasure shooting through you as you grind back. Your walls are squeezing her perfectly. Your moans are growing as you let your head fall forward onto her shoulder. She gently kisses your other shoulder as you squeeze her tightly. 

Wanda can tell you close. She wants you to finish with her, to feel you release all over her cock. She lightly nips and sucks at the skin around your neck and shoulder, sure to leave marks behind. “Cum detka. I wanna feel you fall apart.” She mumbles against your skin. Her thrust never having turned more than a steady pace continuing to drive into you. You moan as the knot snaps, letting go. Your legs tighten around her waist as your walls spasm around her length. Your cum coating her cock as she grinds into you. Her cock twitches as she releases inside of you. Your walls are being coated by her white sticky liquid. 

Feeling you cum and your walls sucking her in, greedy to milk her dry flips a switch inside of Wanda. She starts to speed up her thrust as spurts of cum coat your walls. She wants to fill you full. Feel you grip her cock like a vice. So instead of bringing you down from your high she starts to build a new one. Her hips now pistoning into you, her cock quickly disappearing in and out of your sticky hole. 

“Mommy.” You whimper confused. “Shhh detka, let Mommy use you now.” She grunts and with a particularly hard thrust you moan. That desirable flip switching inside of you at the change of your wife. You love how she can be soft one moment but rough the next. 

Wanda pulls out of you but before you can even complain about being empty she has manhandled you into a new position. She pulls you off the counter and turns you around. She presses in the middle of your back making you lean over the counter before she grabs your hips harshly and swiftly thrust her full length back inside of you. “Mommy!” You moan out loudly, her thrust at a fast and brutal pace from the start this time. She jackhammers her hips into yours, bouncing off your ass. Her fingers dig into your hips as she grunts. The force of her thrust moves your whole body. 

Your moans bounce off the walls of the kitchen as Wanda continues to thrust into you from behind. She slaps her hand down on your ass causing you to clench around her. “Oh you like that you, you little slut.” She smirks leaning over you, her breast pressed against your back. All you can do is nod your head as another slap connects with your ass cheek. Another loud moan falling from your lips. “Fuck so perfect for Mommy moya lyubov’.” She kisses your shoulder. “M-Mommy’s.” You mumble in agreeance. 

Wanda thrust in and out of you perfectly with each stroke. “Fuck. What if Mommy gets you pregnant baby hmm. You don’t need a job. Mommy will take care of you. You’ll be my perfect little housewife.” You close your eyes, nodding as you moan. “You like that detka? Mommy filling you with her babies.” Wanda grunts as she continues to thrust. Her hand that was left on your hip moving up to your throat and gently squeezing. She pulls both of your bodies up as she never falters her thrust. Her other arm wrapping around your waist keeps your body close to hers. “P-Please!” You moan, your hands gripping her arms wrapped around you digging your nails into her flesh.  

You and Wanda have leisurely talked about kids but nothing solid but her words play in your head. Now would be perfect and she is right she makes enough to support all of you. She can support not only the both of you but all the kids you could ever desire to have together. The door to a career may have closed but another door to a whole new life has opened. One that you are willing to risk it all for. 

“Mommy’s going to fill you so full of her cum. I’ll keep filling this perfect little hole until you're pregnant with my child. Fuck.” Wanda grunts, her thrust becoming sloppy as she draws nearer to her impending orgasm. Your walls are desperately sucking her in just begging to be filled even more. “Want you babies Mommy. Please fill me.” Your words are breathy as Wanda’s hand around your throat tightens.

With Wanda’s hand on your throat and her thrusts you're soon falling over the edge. Your walls clamp hard around her shaft as your head falls back. Silently screaming as you fall over the edge. Your cum once again mixes with hers as your orgasm washes over. Your body trembling in her hold. Her thrust is sloppy as she grows near. The power she has over you in this moment has thrust hard one more time before unloading inside of you. You don’t know how it is possible but she unloads more cum inside of you than the last time. The prospect of getting you pregnant and starting a family with you exciting the other woman. 

Wanda’s thrust slows down as she helps ride the both of you through your highs. If she wasn’t holding onto you so tightly you know your legs would have given out under you. She holds you tight, slowing her pace to a stop when you whimper from a bit of overstimulation. She kisses the side of your head gently as she pulls out of you. “You did so good for me moya lyubov’.” You let out a content sigh as you relax back into her arms. “Thank you Wands.” You mumble with your eyes closed. “Anything for you my love.” She kisses your shoulder gently before she picks you up bridal style. She gently carries you to your shared bedroom and places you on the bed. She quickly gets both of you cleaned up before she slides into the bed next to you. 

You snuggle into Wanda’s side as she wraps her arms around you tightly. Her one hand laying to rest on your stomach. You look up at her seeing her smiling back down at you. You giggle and blush. “Whatttt.” She just chuckles. “You’ll be pregnant. I’m sure of it. We'll have a perfect little family before you know it.” She kisses your lips gently. “How can you know that?” You ask her. “I just know it detka. You’re going to be pregnant with my babies and you get to be my perfect little housewife.” You hum at her words knowing that your wife is never wrong about these things. Snuggling close into her as you let the thoughts of your future take hold. Your eyes sliding shut with a wide smile on your face as you drift off into a peaceful sleep.

[vibraniumavenger]

Collision

TW/CW: Car accident, injuries.

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Diaz!Reader

You smiled to yourself as you walked beside Christopher, your nephew. You had watched him in the morning while your brother was working, and Carla was attending an appointment. You didn’t mind though, you absolutely adored him, and he enjoyed spending time with you. 

You had an hour to kill before dropping him off to Carla, and heading off to work yourself, so you decided to swing by the station to have lunch with the team. It was quiet when you arrived, indicating the team were on a call. You took it upon yourself to make lunch for everybody, knowing it would be a relief to them when they got back. Chris was sat at the table on his tablet, in a world of his own, allowing you to focus on the food. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the sound of the shutters opening filled the station followed by heavy boots thudding against the floor as each firefighter jumped out of the truck. The footsteps got closer, the faint smell of smoke mixed with a familiar aftershave filled your nostrils and you instinctively lean back into the body that is now behind you as arms snake around your waist. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?” 

You turn towards the voice, and smile, “Apparently, I can’t seem to stay away.” You lean up to kiss Buck, causing Chris to pull a disgusted face. This seemed to amuse Buck, and he kissed you again. Eddie appeared in the kitchen, and made his way over to his son, visibly happy to see him. “Come on guys, get a room.” You rolled your eyes playfully at your brothers comment, and pulled away from Buck. 

You dished up the food for the team and took a seat, eager to hear about the call they had just been on. You listened intently as you ate, your complete focus on Buck as he spoke passionately about the call. Your heart warmed as you watched his face light up, he loved how much you genuinely enjoyed hearing about the calls, and how his day had gone. Chimney was the next to speak up, “It was a good call, except the part where Buck was playing hero and nearly got himself killed.” Bucks eyes widened and he turned to look at Chimney, giving him a look that immediately stopped him talking. Chimney, trying to help, began speaking again, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t any more dangerous than a simple call, the risk is always there. Besides, it was probably one of the safer times Buck tried to save the day, you should’ve seen him on the call last week.” 

“Chim, stop talking.” Buck, who was now visibly on the spot, turned to face you. He studied your face, working out how to approach this. He opened his mouth to reassure you, but you beat him to it, “I thought we spoke about this…” Buck knew you understood that no day was guaranteed, and that saving people on calls was something he would always try to do, even if it put him at risk. He also knew that he had a habit of jumping the gun and putting himself in dangerous situations without thinking it through. “I’m sorry…” 

You checked your watch, and stood up. “I just wish you’d be more careful, Buck.” Chris stood up and hugged Eddie goodbye, and you did the same. “Later bro.” You said goodbye to the team and walked back to the car with Chris by your side. The breeze hit you, and you took a deep breath. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe not but you just needed a moment. You helped Chris into the car and got in yourself, turning on the radio. The short ride to Carlas mostly consisted of Chris laughing as you sang along to the music, and the occasional conversation when Chris wasn’t overly engrossed in his phone. Carla was there to greet you when you pulled up on her drive, Chris was extremely excited and practically jumped out of the car to hug her. Carla gave you a hug, “Y/N, it’s so good to see you!” You smiled and hugged back, “It’s been a while, huh? Life has been hectic.” Carla laughs at this, “You’re telling me, your brother told me all about you and Buck. Moving in together? That’s a big step!” 

“We were practically living together anyway, and if I’m being honest, Eddie is probably just relieved to have his couch back. I was starting to get on his nerves.” You explained to Carla, and she chuckled. “Well, I wish you all the best. I’m gonna get Chris inside, and I’ll let you run off to work. It was lovely seeing you.” You hug Chris goodbye and bid farewell to Carla before getting into your car and beginning your journey to your place of work. In front of you, the amber light turned to red and you stopped. You could see that traffic was beginning to build up on the other side of the junction, and you didn’t want to be late. You sighed, and made the decision to take an alternate route, so when the light turned green, you indicated and pulled out to begin taking your turning. You let out a sudden gasp before you could even properly register the car coming towards you. All you could do was attempt to brace for the impact, and so you did. 

A loud crunching sound surrounded you, followed by the feeling of being thrown as your car was barrelled into. You closed your eyes tightly, scared of what was next. You didn’t have the courage to open them again until the car steadied. The first thing you could see was the airbag in front of you, despite not feeling it deploy moments before. You could smell the burning of the tyres, outside of the car, you could hear the panicked voices of bystanders, but all you could focus on was the blood that was now spread across your arms, unsure of where it was actually coming from. You weren’t in pain, at least you couldn’t feel any in that moment. Is that what shock feels like? You couldn’t think, but your eyes got heavy and you fought your hardest not to succumb to the darkness. 

Back at the station, the call was only just coming in. The alarm blared throughout the station, alerting the team to the call. They were quick to jump into action, grabbing their gear and piling themselves into their assigned trucks. Eddie and Buck sat beside each other, speaking casually between themselves about what had happened earlier. “Just give her some time, she’ll come around. For her, two of the people she loves most are at risk everyday, you’ve gotta imagine it can’t be easy. It’s a risky job as it is, and when you put yourself into riskier situations without needing to, it decreases the chance of making it home at the end. She’s scared. Just talk to her.” Eddie attempted to reassure Buck, who was feeling terrible. He couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind, the face that showed disappointment in his actions. Before Buck could respond, the truck halted and the team jumped out, ready to give help where needed. Buck stopped in his tracks as an all too familiar car was crushed before him. He tried not to panic, hoping that his suspicions were wrong. His eyes flicked to the number plate and his heart stopped. His feet were moving before his mind could catch up. He shouted your name, drawing Eddies attention. It took Eddie a few seconds to process what was happening. You had not long left the station, it couldn’t possibly be you. Right?

Buck arrived to your car first, nausea washed over him as he caught sight of your injured body. “Y/N? Hey, it’s me. I’m here.” You weren’t completely aware of what was happening, your eyes opened with a struggle. Your movements were weak as you turned your head to look at him. “Buck?” You spoke quietly, not completely aware of the situation at hand. “Don’t move, try and keep still.” He tried to remain as calm as he could, he didn’t want to scare you any more, he was terrified himself. Eddie ran right over to the car, his heart racing as he feared what he would find. His first instinct was to check the back seat, relief finally washing over him as he saw no sign of Christopher. Still, he needed to make sure, “Y/N, was Chris in the car?” 

You shook your head, “Carlas.” Eddie felt a weight off his shoulders, knowing his son was safe. The weight soon came back when he saw the condition you were in. Your eyes rolled back, and you fell into unconsciousness. Bobby was running the scene, assigning Hen and Chim to medically assist you, and he grabbed the gear to support Buck and Eddie in freeing you from the car. Buck didn’t want to let go of your hand, but he knew he had to in order to get you out sooner. The team worked tirelessly, ensuring to be as careful as possible. Bobby handed the halligan to Buck, “Buck, you focus on getting the doors open. Diaz, grab the saw and be on standby.” 

Buck groaned as he tried to pry the doors open, with no results, “Roofs too dented Cap, I can’t get it open.” Bobby nodded, and turned to Eddie, “Saws it is. Get in there Diaz, Buck, you too.” The roof was off in no time, Hen and Chim jumped straight in and equipped you with a neck brace, and got the back board in place to move you. Hen checked your vitals quickly, trying to make sure you were steady enough to be moved. “I’ve got a faint pulse, we gotta move.” They moved you out of you car quickly, and transferred you to the ambulance. “Trauma to the abdomen, possible internal bleeding. I’ll let the hospital know we’re en route.” Buck jumps into the back of the ambulance with Chimney, and instantly takes your hand in his. Hen places herself into the drivers seat, putting the ambulance into 911 mode and begins the journey as fast as she can to the nearest hospital. 

Buck hated seeing you like this. He was filled with anxiety, the nausea constantly there as he studied your visible injuries. His heart sank with every second that went by, the more he thought about you laying there almost lifeless, expecting you to flatline any second now. “I’m sorry baby, we can’t leave things like this. I need you to get through this so I can apologise to you. I know I’m not the easiest person to love, and I also know that I’m the biggest pain in the ass, but I love you, and I need you. Please.” Buck sobbed as he held your hand tighter. Time seemed to be going extremely slow for Buck, yet moments later Hen was pulling up at the hospital. You were rushed in, Hen spewed all your information to the nurses as you were wheeled in and handed over. Buck, Hen and Chimney stood there as you were wheeled out of sight. One of the nurses stopped Buck from running after you, and he sat defeated in the waiting room. The rest of the team arrived soon after, Eddies face was similar to Bucks. Eddie spoke first, “Any update?” The lack of response from Buck had him on edge, fearing the worst. Luckily, Chimney filled the silence. “There’s no update, but no news it almost always good news.” 

Eddie placed his hand on Bucks shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before sitting down next to him. “How’re you holding up?” Buck didn’t look up, instead he kept his head in his hands. He couldn’t respond, he couldn’t trust his voice not to give out. His leg bounced anxiously, and despite not talking, his feelings were painfully obvious. Eddie could empathise, he knew exactly what was going through Bucks mind. It was happening to him too, but he concealed it as much as he could, knowing Buck needed him. “You know, each time we’re sat in these chairs, it never gets easier. You don’t have to talk, I get it. I think you should know that I’m right here for you, I understand. Y/N is going to be okay, that I have no doubt about. She’s my sister, and us Diaz’s, we don’t back down. We fight.” Eddie continues talking, and he’s not sure whether he’s trying to convince Buck or himself. 

A few hours go by, and the team are waiting as patiently as they can for an update. Maddie had arrived some time ago, and was sat with Buck. She was not only there to support her brother, but also her brothers girlfriend, who Maddie had claimed as her best friend shortly after meeting her. Bobby hands a coffee to Buck and Eddie, who hadn’t moved from their seats since arriving. This changed moments later as a nurse approached, making them stand. Buck felt as if his legs were going to give way any second. The nurse cleared her throat, “She’s stable. She’s incredibly lucky to have made it out with the injuries she did, it could’ve been a lot worse. She’s awake, if you’d like to go see her.” 

Buck didn’t stick around to hear whatever else the nurse had to say, he darted through the corridor until he got to your room. He stopped to take a deep breath, and stepped inside. He was scared to look at you, all he could picture was you covered in blood still. His head shot up as he heard a voice, your voice to be exact, “Buck?” 

He was by your bedside in a blink of an eye, taking your hand in his. His eyes wandered over your body, taking in each of your injuries. His heart broke a little more with each one. He finally looked you in the eyes, and that’s when it hit him. His eyes filled up with tears, “Y/N…”

“Hey, don’t cry. I’m fine, see. I’m right here.” You gave his hand a squeeze, trying to give him the reassurance he needed. Buck took a seat close to your bed, your hand in his and against his lips. You move your hand up to his cheek and wipe his tears, Buck practically melted into your touch. “I really thought I had lost you.” 

“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I need to apologise for my reaction earlier, that could’ve been our last conversation earlier and left without saying goodbye, or telling you how much I love you.” 

Buck shook his head, “You have nothing to apologise for, I’m the one that owes you an apology. I’m sorry that I’m not more careful when I’m out on a call, I shouldn’t be that reckless. I’m sorry that I can’t promise to walk through that door every night, safe and unscathed. I can appreciate how you feel now, and I promise I’ll try my hardest to be more careful. I love you, and I don’t want you ever feeling anything close to what I’ve felt today.” You wince as you sit up, making Buck panic. You push through the pain, and pull Buck to you. “Come here.” He stands from his chair and leans down to kiss you quickly. He carefully moves your hair from your face, ensuring he doesn’t touch any of your cuts or bruises. 

“I love you too, and even though I’m petrified that you won’t make it home one day, I trust that you’ll try everything in your power to make sure you do. I’m proud of you, Evan.” As you spoke, Buck smiled to himself. A sense of relief washed over him. Before he could respond, you continued. “So… does this mean I can finally get a new car now?” 

Buck chuckled, “You’re a pain in the ass, Diaz.” 

“Takes one to know one, Buck.”

A/N: So, I think I rewrote this like 10 times. Its been a while since I've done any writing, so please bare with me while I figure out my writing style again. Any criticism is welcome, I appreciate the feedback.

[p0orbaby]

A Tide of Tender Mercies

summary: oh, no, i think i’m in love with you

warning: SMUT 18+, oral, fingering (alexia receiving), some angst, reader being stubborn af

a/n: thank you to @muffinpink02 for helping navigate the sexy part ! also i’ve deffo repeated some bits but i cannot for the life of me be bothered to sort it out

word count: 7k

part 1

-

The chalet is…well, perfect. It’s the kind of perfect that only comes from meticulous planning, obsessive list-making, and a kind of restrained indulgence that most people would never understand. Set high above a tiny Swiss village known for its fondue and twenty-something millionaires, it sits against a backdrop of mountains sharp enough to slice the clouds. The exterior is severe, almost aggressively minimalistic: crisp white stucco, blackened wood shutters, and glass doors that could double as showroom installations. The effect is daunting, beautiful, and—if you’re being honest—a bit over-the-top. You chose it, naturally, because it’s the type of place where “just a fling” can occur without a single hint of domesticity.

Inside, everything is pristine, hand-selected, curated to within an inch of its life. You were adamant that the linens be Egyptian cotton, but not the gaudy kind; they’re 800-thread count, light enough to seem insubstantial but woven to feel solid, unyielding. They’re arranged in clinical folds on the bed, starched and pressed in a way that suggests they’re almost afraid to be touched. You’ll mess them up later, but for now, they’re an artwork of restraint.

And then there are the wines, selected with the sort of care that would make a sommelier weep. It’s silly, of course—Alexia doesn’t normally drink during the season, so she will hardly glance at the labels, but you’ve assembled an array that hints at depth nonetheless. An entire wall of Swiss Chasselas, a few rare vintages from Bordeaux, and an stupidly expensive pinot noir that tastes like dirt but cost enough to suggest you know what you’re doing. The idea is that if she gives in to something sophisticated, she’ll find it here. If she doesn’t, you’ll find her something else. Something that says you’ve thought of everything. Which, of course, you have.

The whole thing has a sort of perverse charm, really, how every detail has been obsessively pre-arranged to ensure that she knows you’re not in this for anything serious. And yet, here you are, flying her across Europe to the kind of setting people book for anniversaries and life-altering proposals.

There’s a sort of humour in it, if you’re willing to look. You even laugh to yourself, laying out the spa towels in the bathroom—too thick, too plush, a little too “I love you”—knowing full well she won’t notice them. She’ll think of them as “towels,” and if she does notice, it’ll be because she needs a new one. But that’s fine. It’s all part of the performance, all part of the thing you’ve constructed around this chalet, around her arrival, around the notion that this is—what? Casual? Fun? Whatever word fits it neatly enough to deny what you’re feeling.

And then there are the candles. Oh, God, the candles. You tried to keep them simple, restrained, the kind of scents that evoke a distant memory rather than a specific moment. Sandalwood, bergamot, a flicker of pine; nothing too floral, nothing that says “romance,” but hints of something just familiar enough to feel safe. You even toyed with the idea of an unscented option, just in case the pine felt too… suggestive. It’s ridiculous, but you’ve learned to lean into it, to control it, to package it neatly. If it’s planned, then it’s deliberate, and if it’s deliberate, then it’s just for fun.

“Why all this?” you imagine her saying, eyebrows raised, maybe laughing as she notices the excessive stock of Swiss chocolates in the cabinet. You have them lined up in neat rows, the artisan kind—no corner-shop Toblerone here—and each one is individually wrapped in foil that gleams in the dim kitchen light. You picture her rolling her eyes at the small mountain of truffle boxes, asking if you’ve stocked up for a wedding. And you, of course, would shrug it off, offering some deadpan line about Swiss tourism. Or a joke about Swiss efficiency. Or something suitably bland that keeps the tone right where you want it—on the edge of humour, a step away from real. You’ve prepared for every reaction, really. Which is pointless, because she hasn’t even arrived yet.

It’s the first time she’s been here. The place is new, purchased after a very well-timed therapy session that conveniently rebranded “self-indulgence” as “self-care.” The therapist’s exact words were “If you want to be your best self, find the spaces that let you breathe.” And you took that literally, flying up here for private viewings until this place caught your eye. Well, maybe not your eye. But it was one of those rare places that looked exactly like the pictures, maybe better, and it had the kind of aesthetic that screams “I need nothing from you” while begging for a sense of purpose. You bought it almost instantly.

And now, after weeks of fine-tuning, she’ll be here soon. You catch yourself arranging the books on the side table, pausing over which titles to leave out—a mix of philosophy and modern fiction that says “I read but don’t take it too seriously.” You laugh to yourself at the pretension of it, yet you leave the carefully selected titles exactly as they are.

It’s silly, really, because the goal here is detachment, the freedom to keep things light and uncomplicated. You tell yourself that as you straighten the pillows on the sofa for the second time, catching your own eye in the polished mirror that hangs in the foyer.

“You’re being weird,” you say out loud, imagining her walking in, that quick smile flashing, eyebrows raised in a way that says, “Is this all for me?” You picture her laughing, maybe rolling those pretty green eyes of hers. But you have an answer for that too, prepared in advance, a casual shrug.

“Just a little atmosphere,” you’ll say, as if it’s nothing.

You check your watch. Thirty-two minutes until Alexia arrives. Thirty-two minutes to double-check that every single minutely considered, utterly detached detail says, I couldn’t care less—or, more precisely, I care in exactly the right amount of less. Because she needs to know that this is nothing. That this trip to an over-the-top chalet overlooking a town mostly inhabited by 19-year-olds in cashmere is simply an exercise in relaxation, togetherness, a concept you’re fairly sure you’re allergic to.

She doesn’t know it yet, but you bought the place partly to show her. Partly to remind her, subtly, that she could disappear tomorrow and you’d still have this. Because that’s the problem with Alexia, isn’t it? She’s not really yours. She’s something you can enjoy, display even, but never own. The complete opposite of the real estate you’ve added to your collection. You stand there, glass in hand, the Lagavulin you’ve graciously poured yourself warming your fingers through the crystal, staring out at the Alps with the vague thought that an obscene number of people have had their ashes scattered here, somewhere along this ridgeline. It’s an unsettling idea you rather enjoy.

She texts, something about a delay on the tarmac, and you stare at the message for a beat too long, analysing the exact wording like you’re looking for hidden subtext. As if there could be subtext in the word “delayed.”

A casual fling, you remind yourself, should never be complicated by subtext.

To pass the time, you scan the kitchen once again. The coffee is fresh-ground, of course, from a bag that cost as much as an entire year’s supply from anywhere normal. It’s pre-portioned in tiny glass canisters your assistant found online that look like vintage apothecary jars. The labels are printed in Helvetica Neue because you once read that it’s a ‘subtly superior’ font. Ridiculous. But also, it’s perfect. There’s also a miniature mountain of imported Spanish oranges on the counter, carefully arranged in a hammered copper bowl you don’t remember buying. You could make mimosas, you think, if you didn’t know she’ll insist on starting with a protein shake instead.

You put a bottle of Alpine mineral water in the fridge just for her, chilled to the exact 4.4°C she prefers. Yes, it’s an oddly specific temperature preference. No, she didn’t tell you directly. You overheard her mention it once, offhand, to someone else. Which is exactly why you’re bound to a polite indifference if she asks why it’s there. It’s simply what the fridge was set to. Nothing personal.

Just the thought of her walking in has you adjusting your posture as if she’s already watching. Alexia doesn’t miss a single detail. Once, she commented on the way you have a tendency to pull your sleeves over your hands. You haven’t done it since. Now, you check that every piece of clothing you’ve chosen is deliberately, carelessly oversized—but only to the point that still reads as flattering.

Then, at last, you hear the crunch of tyres on gravel. You scurry to watch from the window as she steps out of the car you sent, and she’s immediately caught in that glacial alpine light, her features so stark and defined that it’s almost cinematic. There’s a sharp thrill—one you won’t admit to yourself—in seeing her here, framed against this scene like she’s the final piece in some high-budget film. The coat she’s wearing is slightly too large, lending her a relaxed, indifferent air, as if she’d picked up the first thing she saw on her way out the door. Effortless, in that way that would feel studied on anyone else.

You stand back from the window just before she glances up, retreating into the comfort of shadows. Timing is everything. You’ve thought this through, down to each calculated second. It’s critical, after all, that she finds you not watching, but instead lingering at a perfect remove, preferably with a slight air of distraction. You’re aiming for a kind of aloofness, as if her arrival is the least interesting event of the day.

She’s about to ring the bell when you move, deliberately slow, to the door, letting it swing open just as she raises her hand. There’s a brief, barely perceptible pause as her eyes meet yours, a spark of something unspoken passing between you both before she raises an eyebrow, a look that hovers between amusement and challenge.

“Missed me?” she asks, dryly, though there’s a glint in her eye that suggests she’s perfectly aware of what she’s doing. She’s close now, close enough that you can catch the faintest whiff of her perfume, something dark and woody and just the right side of familiar.

You tilt your head, giving her a slow once-over, and shrug. “Not especially,” you say, voice low, careful to keep the tone perfectly flat. But you let your gaze linger just a second too long on her collarbone, barely visible where her coat has slipped slightly, enough to make her catch it, her mouth curling up at the edge. It’s a deliberate game, one you’ve both played a hundred times, each move rehearsed, practised to the point of art.

She’s barely through the door when you feel it—that unmistakable tension, thickening the air between you. It’s almost tangible, a static hum just beneath the surface of polite conversation, something that pulls at you like gravity. The moment feels precarious, balanced on the edge of something you’re not quite willing to name, because if you wait too long, the feeling will settle into something more familiar. Something too close to comfort, which is the last thing you want.

She doesn’t seem to notice it, of course, her mind likely on dinner plans or the slow crawl of the evening. You, however, are already teetering at the edge of patience, every nerve just slightly too aware of her. She walks in, drops her bag by the door with a casual grace that feels almost too natural, like she’s done this a hundred times, like she could do this forever if you asked her to. And you wonder if you’d even want that—something so predictably domestic, the quiet comfort of a routine. No. You want her in ways that defy that kind of simplicity, in a way that doesn’t ask permission.

You watch her from the corner of your eye as she takes in the room. Her eyes linger on the minimal, curated details you agonised over: the leather-bound books you never plan to read, the art on the walls meant to suggest a taste for something more sophisticated than it is. She’s oblivious, seemingly caught up in the novelty of the place, and that’s exactly what you intended. She can’t know how meticulously you set the scene, how every pillow and chair is positioned with an almost obsessive precision. All she has to do is be here. You’ll take care of the rest.

There’s a slow, unhurried quality to her movements, an ease that’s infuriating because it’s so at odds with the pulse of urgency rising in you. She wanders over to the fireplace, running her hand along the mantel with a soft, idle curiosity. Her fingers trace over the edge of a photograph you don’t remember putting there, something abstract and distant, chosen for the way it says absolutely nothing about you. It’s maddening, really, the way she lingers in the space, claiming it without meaning to, as if her very presence could overwrite the hours you spent constructing it.

“You’ve really outdone yourself,” she says, her voice light, unaware of the way it cuts through the silence with a sharpness that’s almost physical. There’s a half-smile on her face, something unreadable that you can’t quite shake off.

You shrug, adopting an air of disinterest you’ve perfected over the years. “Thought you’d appreciate the change of scenery”

She raises an eyebrow, still oblivious, her focus now on the bust of Venus of Arles by the window. For a second, you want to laugh at the madness of it, how she’s here, right in front of you, while you’re clawing at the edges of your own restraint.

But she’s still gazing around, her fingers brushing the edge of a table as if she has all the time in the world. As if she doesn’t know what you’re holding back. You take a slow breath, exhale, feel the tension coil tighter inside, and think that if you let this linger for even another second, you’ll start to resent the calmness of it, the quiet rhythm that feels too much like waiting. Like settling into something you’re not prepared to face.

“Wine?” You ask in a futile attempt to keep things just this side of civilised. The offer hangs in the air, a thin layer of normalcy that feels like it could snap at any moment, but she only nods, glancing over with a slight smile, one corner of her mouth lifting in that way that’s halfway between polite interest and something more.

“Sure,” she says, her voice smooth, without a hint of awareness. “You pick”

You turn to the wine rack with an exaggerated casualness, scanning bottles you chose with this exact moment in mind. You could explain the notes of every vintage, how each one was picked not because it pairs with any particular food—because let’s face it, dinner’s not exactly on your mind—but because it suggests a kind of sophistication, a subtlety. You choose a bottle of red, something full-bodied and just slightly bitter, almost as if in silent commentary on the situation. You pour, slowly, setting the glass down in front of her with a kind of precision that’s both reverent and clinical. She reaches for it, her fingers grazing the stem, the gesture infuriatingly graceful.

The first sip seems to surprise her. “Good choice,” she murmurs, eyes meeting yours over the rim of the glass.

The silence stretches on just a moment too long, the air thick with something that isn’t quite tension, more like a coiled spring just waiting for one of you to press down. You feel it building as she shifts, glancing around the room, and suddenly, you realise she’s working up to something. There’s a certain deliberateness in the way she moves, a careful consideration in her stare, and you know—know—she didn’t come all this way just to admire the decor.

“Look,” she starts, her voice softer than usual, carrying a weight that tells you she’s not talking about the view. “I’ve been thinking—”

But you can’t—won’t—let her finish. Not when you know exactly what she’s about to say. You cut her off, leaning forward, your tone light, easy, deliberately dismissive. “Please don’t tell me you came all the way here just to talk, Alexia”

She freezes, mid-sentence, and there’s a flash of something in her eyes, a blend of surprise and—annoyance, maybe? But she masks it quickly, her lips pressing into a tight line. “I thought you’d appreciate me being… honest,” she says slowly, as though testing the waters, watching you carefully.

“Honest? That’s what we’re calling it?” You let a smirk tug at the corner of your mouth, a practiced expression, something designed to be just detached enough to hold everything at arm’s length. “Come on, we’re better than that, aren’t we?”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your deflection, but there’s still a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Better than what? Talking?”

Talking. The word hangs in the air, innocent, innocuous, yet loaded in a way that feels heavier than it has any right to. You shift, taking another sip of wine, letting the liquid burn down, hoping it’ll smother the way her eyes feel like they're peeling away all your practiced layers. It’s one thing to enjoy someone’s company, but the feeling creeping in now is something else, something you’re not used to. It feels inconvenient. Like an itch you can’t reach.

You try to fire back, something witty, something cool, but the words catch in your throat, your mind scraping empty. It’s frustrating, the way she’s caught you off guard, how she’s unraveled your carefully crafted reserve without even trying. You reach for your glass again, swirling the wine, stalling for time, anything to avoid that knowing look in her eyes.

But then it dawns on you, like a spark catching flame—there’s still one thing left to do to regain control. Something you can do that would put you back in charge, bring this uncomfortable vulnerability back into something physical, where you excel. You set your glass down, slowly, purposefully, letting the silence stretch taut between you both.

She watches you with that smirk, that trace of challenge, as if daring you to break this moment of stillness.

“Come here,” you say, low and steady, injecting just enough command to leave no room for debate.

“No”

She says it so simply, so carelessly, that for a moment you’re almost convinced you misheard her. It’s infuriating, really, that one little word has the power to throw you so entirely. Your pulse stumbles, and you feel the ground slipping from under you, just enough to catch you off guard.

“Alexia.” You give her a look that’s intended to be definitive, final, but it lands with all the power of a weak threat. Her smirk widens into a full, infuriating smile, the one that says she’s entirely aware of the effect she’s having on you.

“Just hear me out,” she says, with a kind of softness that’s more unnerving than you’d like. “You’re doing that thing. The thing where you turn everything into—” She pauses, gesturing vaguely with her hand, searching for the right word, “—into some kind of performance”

It’s an odd, unnerving feeling, this loss of footing. Normally, you’d have a witty reply ready, something cutting or clever, but instead, you feel like she’s stripped you bare, left you standing there with nothing but honesty, and you hate it.

“So now you’re the expert?” you reply, finally finding your voice, though it sounds sharper than you meant. “Since when do you—”

“Since I started actually falling for you,” she says, cutting you off, her voice low but clear. It’s not even particularly dramatic, the way she says it, and somehow that’s worse. Like she’s not trying to turn it into anything, not expecting any kind of reaction—just stating it as a fact.

You feel a flush rise to your face, and you mask it with another sip of wine, a hasty attempt to cover up the sudden jolt in your chest. She waits, just watches you with that maddening calm, as if giving you all the time in the world to come up with some kind of response.

The air between you feels thick, heavy with something unsaid and unfamiliar. You feel the urge to laugh, to make light of it, anything to disperse this feeling building between you, something dangerously close to vulnerability.

“You don’t have to make this into… whatever this is,” you say, gesturing between you. “Let’s not get sentimental”

“I’m not,” she says, crossing her arms, looking impossibly patient. “I told you I’m just trying to be honest. I thought that was allowed”

“Honest,” you repeat, as though the word itself is foreign. And maybe it is. Honesty has never been the thing you reach for. Honesty is for people who can afford to look foolish, who don’t mind slipping, stumbling a little. Honesty is… unnecessary. And maybe that’s exactly why it’s got you so rattled now.

You set your glass down, more forcefully than intended, and close the distance between you with a deliberate slowness, a silence that says everything you aren’t willing to say out loud. She watches you, unmoving, waiting, that infuriating patience of hers still intact.

“Fine,” you murmur, leaning in close, your voice barely above a whisper. “If youre falling for me, fucking show me”

Her lips quirk in the barest hint of a smile, a flicker of amusement mixed with something warmer, something that makes you feel like you’re the one being dissected here. It’s maddening, really, how effortlessly she manages to get under your skin, slip past all those careful layers. And yet you’re already reaching for her, pulling her closer, desperate to change the pace, to turn this moment into something you can control.

There’s a split second where neither of you move, holding the charged silence like it might be the only thread of control left. And then it snaps. You reach for her, not gently, fingers curling around her wrist with enough force that she has no choice but to be pulled in. Her smirk flickers, only slightly, and there’s something about the momentary surprise in her eyes that makes your grip tighten further, anchoring yourself as much as her. It’s a flash of vulnerability that vanishes as quickly as it appears, leaving behind nothing but a thin layer of bravado, one you’re keen to shatter.

You pull her toward you, and the air shifts, that faint hint of uncertainty cracking into something far messier. Your hand finds its way to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair with a kind of reckless precision, not even aware of how tightly you’re holding on. You don’t waste time; you’re not even sure there’s time to waste. And as soon as you lean in, catching her mouth with a kiss that’s anything but tentative, you feel her resistance melt, her lips parting under yours with a roughness that’s almost defiant.

She meets you with equal force, as if each clash of mouths, each bruising press of skin, is a way to gain back her own control, and you revel in it, the give-and-take that feels as calculated as it is chaotic. Your hand slips to her jaw, holding her there, your thumb brushing over the corner of her mouth with a kind of ferocity that toes the line between possessive and desperate. You know it’s not going to be gentle; there’s a part of you that doesn’t want it to be.

You’re moving backwards, feeling the edge of the marble island press into your spine, but it doesn’t matter. She’s everywhere, her hands gripping the fabric of your shirt, blunt nails scraping against your skin as if she’s staking a claim, as if she’s finally caught on to the pace you’ve been trying to set and decided to match it.

“Is this what you wanted?” Her words slip out like a slow, deliberate knife cutting through the air between you. The tone, sharp, unfamiliar, though has been the soundtrack to your late-night thoughts. It’s almost as if she knows, like she’s caught you in the act of something that’s always been just below the surface. Her breath comes in shallow gasps, eyes darting between your face and the space between you two, as if trying to read the faintest tremor in your expression. It’s always a game with her, always a step too far.

Yes.

“No,” you manage, your voice betraying you—cracked, thin, like a lie too rehearsed. The words come out wrong, but they come out anyway, forced through a tightening chest.

The moment stretches, each second fracturing, bending and folding into itself. It’s like trying to hold a conversation with a shadow—everything slips just out of reach, and the harder you try to grasp it, the more it seems to twist away, leaving nothing but the sensation of your own breath hitching in your throat. You fucking hate this. You hate the way her fingers curl in the fabric of your shirt, as if trying to remind you of your place, of the expectations that have always followed you both like a silent, mocking echo.

No, you don’t hate her.

Fuck. You love her.

The thought is an ugly, dissonant thing, a weight that doesn’t settle easily, like a slow-moving tide pulling you under. The water’s cold. You can’t feel the bottom. You don’t know which way is up, and the only thing you do know is that, somewhere along the line, you’ve let yourself drown.

Your pulse is almost deafening in your ears, hammering in time with your desperate need for air. There’s something about the way she stands before you—still and deliberate, eyes trained on yours—that makes the room feel smaller, closer. You think you can hear her thoughts. Feel them. It’s maddening, how much she seems to know you, how she’s always known the way you bend. How much she’s learned to manipulate that bend, until you almost forget what it’s like to be anything but this: a response.

You swallow. The taste of her is lingering on your lips, sweet and bitter all at once, like a bad memory. How many times has this happened? You don’t know anymore. The last time feels as far away as the first time—when she leaned in, the weight of her body an invisible promise. But tonight, there’s something different. It’s in the way she watches you, cold, calculating, her fingers still gripping the edges of your shirt, the only real connection between you two in the moment.

She inhales slowly, the rhythm deliberate, like she’s listening to a song you can’t hear. The silence is suffocating.

“You’re lying,” she says, low and accusing, with just enough venom to make you flinch. There’s a tiny smile that tugs at the corner of her mouth, something fleeting, something knowing. You want to reach out, to take her in your hands and pull her close, but the distance between you both feels like a universe. The space feels like a reflection of everything that’s wrong with you: the empty conversations, the meaningless gestures, the ache that’s always there, just beneath the skin. It’s maddening, this tension.

And yet…

You want her. Fuck, you need her. You don’t know if it’s because you love her or because she knows how to make you feel more alive than anything else. She’s become your addiction, your fire, the only thing you can’t quit.

Another shift in the air. Another breath from her, shallow and calculated. It’s not a question anymore, not a challenge—it’s an affirmation. She knows, and you know, too.

You close your eyes for a moment, just long enough to lose yourself in the fleeting memory of something that almost felt like peace. The sound of her voice, the taste of her, the way she touched you. It’s all a blur, a disjointed collection of moments tied together by one inescapable truth: you’ll never be able to walk away.

Not this time.

When your eyes open again, she’s still standing there, eyes not leaving yours, studying you. Everything feels slowed down, almost too slow. Like time is bending around her, twisting the seconds into something thick, sticky. Her gaze doesn’t soften, but it holds you in place, an anchor, a force. The room is silent except for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the background, the dull tap of your own pulse in your ears.

You don’t speak. Not yet. You don’t need to.

Her fingers slide along your chest, trailing down in that same slow, infuriating pace, until they settle on the edge of your shirt again, the same place they started. She doesn’t look away, her lips curving upward in a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

It’s like she’s trying to decide whether you want to hurt her or fuck her. And the problem is, you’re not sure you can tell the difference anymore.

Your hands curl into fists at your sides, nails digging into your palms like that might keep you steady, like that might stop you from doing the one thing you swore you wouldn’t.

Loving something. Someone. Loving Alexia.

“What are you so afraid of?” she murmurs, her voice low, almost gentle, and it’s the softness of it that makes you unravel completely.

You don’t think—you can’t. One second you’re standing there trying to convince yourself you still have your palms wrapped around this situation, and the next they’re on her, pulling her in with a force that’s almost cruel. Your mouth finds hers, hard and unrelenting, and she gasps into the kiss, her fingers clutching at your shirt, wrinkling the silk, as if you might disappear if she doesn’t hold on.

She tastes like spearmint gum and coffee. You imagine her shivering as she steps off the plane, teeth chattering in the wind, and too polite to mention it. But your driver notices, you pay him to notice, so before her luggage is out of the cargo, a café con leche is being pressed into her gloved hands.

It’s not a kiss. Not really. It’s a collision, hard and unrelenting, her mouth crashing into yours with a force that feels like defiance, like she’s daring you to stop pretending. To stop holding yourself together so tightly you’re liable to snap.

Your hands are already on her, pulling her close, so close it feels claustrophobic, but you can’t stop. You can’t make yourself pull away because then you’d have to look at her, really look at her, and confront the unbearable softness in her eyes. You’d have to hear her voice again, saying the one thing you’ve been trying to ignore since she first murmured it like a needle under your skin:

“What are you so afraid of?”

What you’re afraid of is this. Her. The way she’s stripped you bare with no effort at all, no grand gestures or declarations. She’s unravelling you with the weight of her presence, with the simple fact of her being, and you hate it almost as much as you crave it.

Your teeth scrape against her lower lip, harder than you mean to, and she gasps, but she doesn’t pull away. Her nails dig into your shoulders, gripping onto you while you take your rightful place at the helm of this godforsaken dance.

And she’s letting you. Letting you press her against the edge of the table, her legs bumping into the thick, varnished oak. The table was handmade by some artisan you don’t remember the name of, its surface polished to a high gloss that reflects the warm light overhead. You’d spent weeks agonising over the purchase, debating wood grains and finishes with a level of scrutiny that felt absurd even at the time. It’s the kind of thing people like you do when they’re too scared to focus on what matters.

But now it’s just a table. A thing in the way, a thing that’s caught between you and her.

Her jeans catch on the wood as you push her back, and the sound is sharp, cutting through the fog in your head. You hesitate for half a second, your hands hovering at her hips, fingers brushing the cool metal of her belt buckle.

“You’re thinking too much,” she says, her voice low and breathless. It’s not a reproach—it’s almost amused, like she knows exactly what’s going on in your head, and it’s ridiculous to her that you’re trying to wrestle this into something it’s not.

“I’m not thinking at all,” you say, and it’s true. Or it’s a lie. You don’t know anymore, and you don’t care.

The belt comes undone with a soft clink, the leather sliding through the loops of her jeans in one smooth motion. You let it fall to the floor, the sound of it hitting the tile lost beneath the ragged breaths you’re both taking. Your hands are shaking slightly as you undo the button on her jeans, the metal cold against your fingertips.

She doesn’t help you. Doesn’t lift her hips, doesn’t make it easier. She just watches you, her gaze steady and unwavering, like she’s daring you to keep going.

And you do.

You yank the denim down her thighs, your movements jerky, almost frantic, and it’s not until the fabric crumples on the floor that you realise your hands are still trembling. She notices too, her lips twitching into that infuriating half-smile, the one that makes your stomach twist into knots.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice soft but edged with something sharper, something that cuts right through you.

“I don’t know,” you admit, and the honesty of it feels like a blow to the chest.

“Don’t stop,” she whispers, and the words make something inside you snap.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of her underwear, dragging them down her thighs in one swift, unceremonious motion. The damp lace clings for a moment before it slides free, pooling at her knees before hitting the floor. You don’t stop to think. There’s no room for hesitation here, no space for the doubt that’s been clawing at you since this started.

Her scent hits you first, heady and intoxicating, and for a moment you freeze, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of it. But then she moves—just slightly, her hips tilting forward in an unspoken plea—and it’s all the permission you need.

You press your mouth to her, your tongue sliding through her folds with a slow, deliberate pressure that pulls a broken sound from her throat. Her taste is sharp, almost sweet, and it floods your senses in a way that makes you dizzy. Her thighs close around your head instinctively, caging you in, and you let out a low, involuntary groan against her skin.

“Fuck—” Her voice is high and breathy, her fingers digging into your scalp now, hard enough to sting. “Don’t stop. Don’t—”

You don’t. You press deeper, your tongue finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at her centre and circling it with a precision you didn’t know you had. She jerks against you, her body arching off the table, and you use the opportunity to slide your hands up her thighs, holding her steady.

The table creaks beneath her, the sound of the wood groaning under her weight mixing with the wet, obscene noises of your mouth against her. It’s filthy and raw, every sense overwhelmed, and you’re not sure if you’re doing this to prove a point or because you can’t bear to stop. Maybe it’s both.

Her head tilts back, exposing the long, elegant line of her throat, and you want to mark it, to leave evidence of this all over her skin, but you can’t pull away. Not when she’s gasping your name, her voice breaking like she can’t quite believe what’s happening.

You slide a finger into her, slow at first, just enough to make her hips stutter against your mouth. She’s tight, impossibly so, and you feel her clench around you as you add a second finger, curling them just right. Her moan is loud, sharp, and it sends a bolt of heat straight through you.

“God, you—” She doesn’t finish the sentence, doesn’t seem capable of forming words anymore, and it sends a twisted sense of satisfaction through you. You focus on her clit again, your tongue moving in quick, precise circles as your fingers work her open, the slick heat of her making it almost too easy.

Her legs tremble around you, and you can feel her getting closer, her breathing turning shallow and erratic. You don’t let up, don’t give her a second to recover, pressing her higher and higher until she breaks with a cry that sounds like your name.

Her whole body shudders, her thighs clamping tight around your head as she rides out her orgasm, and you keep going, drawing it out as long as you can until she’s pushing weakly at your shoulders.

“Enough,” she gasps, her voice wrecked, and you finally pull back, your lips and chin wet with her.

You look up at her, and she’s a mess—her hair sticking to her damp forehead, her chest heaving with every ragged breath. Her eyes meet yours, dark and unreadable, and for a moment neither of you says anything.

Then, slowly, she reaches for you, her hands shaking as she grabs at your jumper and pulls you up to meet her. Her kiss is rough and desperate, her teeth catching on your lower lip, and you realise she’s not done.

Her hands don’t go for your own clothes like you’d expected. Instead, they move to your thighs, her grip firm and commanding, and before you can comprehend what’s happening, she’s lifting you. The sudden change knocks the air out of your lungs, and you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around her waist, locking you against her. The motion is seamless, like she’s done this before—or like she’s always known she could.

You try to tell yourself you hate how easy it feels, but you don’t. You can’t.

Your hands find her shoulders, her jaw, her hair—anything to ground yourself, but nothing works. You’re still dizzy, still untethered, even as her lips crash against yours. There’s nothing gentle about it, nothing controlled. Her teeth scrape your bottom lip, her tongue pushes into your mouth like she’s trying to devour you, and you let her because for once you don’t want to think about what comes next.

She’s walking, you realise belatedly, the steady rhythm of her steps making your body rock against hers. It’s disorienting, the way she carries you so easily, like your weight is nothing, like you’re the fragile thing here.

You kiss her harder to prove you’re not, nipping at her lip until she growls low in her throat, a sound that vibrates through you and pulls a small, involuntary moan from your lips. Her hands tighten on you, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, and it sends a sharp thrill up your spine.

The hallway blurs around you, the world narrowing until it’s just her—her mouth on yours, her hands gripping you like she’ll never let go, her body impossibly solid against yours.

When she finally kicks the door open and lays you down on the bed, it feels like surrender. Not hers. Yours.

You don’t realise how tightly you’ve been clinging to her until she pulls back, your fingers still knotted in the collar of her shirt. The fabric wrinkles between your hands, and for a moment you just stare at each other, the room charged with something you don’t have the words to name.

Her eyes are dark, searching, but there’s no smugness, no trace of victory there. Instead, there’s something softer, something that makes your chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with lust.

“I’ve got you,” she murmurs, her voice low and steady, and it undoes you more than anything else she’s done tonight.

It’s too much. The weight of her words, the way she says them like a promise, like she means it. Your chest tightens, and you shake your head, your fingers releasing her collar to press against her shoulders, keeping her at a distance.

But she doesn’t let you push her away completely. Her hands slide up your sides, gentle now, her touch a sharp contrast to the bruising grip she had on you moments ago. She’s watching you, waiting, like she knows exactly what’s going through your head.

You hate her for it. You hate her because she’s right.

“I can’t…” Your voice cracks, barely audible, and you don’t even know what you’re trying to say.

She leans in, her forehead resting against yours, her breath warm against your cheek. “You don’t have to,” she says simply, and the honesty in her tone is unbearable.

You want to argue, to fight, to push her away, but your body doesn’t move. You just lay there, your chest heaving, your hands trembling against her. You feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something vast and unknowable, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not sure if you’ll survive the fall.

Because this isn’t about sex anymore.

It’s about her, and the way she looks at you like you’re something worth holding onto. It’s about the way your body feels like it’s breaking apart under the weight of it, like you’re finally being seen for what you are—what you’ve always been.

A liar. A coward. Someone too afraid to let go, too afraid to feel, too afraid to love.

Her lips brush yours again, soft this time, barely there, and you let out a shaky breath. It’s not enough to drown in. Not yet. But it’s close.

“Let me in,” she whispers, and it’s not a command. It’s an offering.

You close your eyes, and for the first time, you don’t resist.

[eroselless]

─────────────── the spaces between us // 1

series summary: when you accept a job as an au pair in the irish countryside, you expect to spend your days caring for your little new pal but its all upended when his charming uncle arrives to stay for the holidays. [2.2k]

[paul mescal x reader]

masterlist | part 2

warnings: kinda angst, sort of complicated family dynamics

note: heyyyyyy. i've been slowly coming back to writing as the semester has been ever so slowly winding down. as a little treat, i went to see gladiator and kinda became obsessed with paul mescal (as you do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯). i've been using this story as a sort of escape and a way to relax after a long day at my practicums. i've also been feeling rather nostalgic about my brief time in ireland a couple months ago so i thought, why not. hope you guys enjoy this part :)

The bus rumbles along a narrow, winding road that hugs the cliffs of the Irish coastline. Outside the rain-spattered windows, the world stretches in endless shades of green—rolling hills dotted with grazing sheep and small houses, each one weathered by time. In the distance, the sea churns relentlessly, its grey waves crashing into the rocks below, throwing up a fine mist.

You press your forehead against the cold glass, your reflection staring back at you—anxious and pale. The unfamiliar landscape feels vast and unending, twisting something in your stomach as you take it all in. A sharp ding from your phone jolts you upright, the notification reminding you that your stop is next. You sling your bag over your shoulder and make your way to the front of the bus, stepping down onto the gravel as it crunches beneath your boots.

The chill in the air bites at your skin, making you pull your coat tighter around your neck. Ahead, the path curves toward a house perched high on a hill. It stands apart from its surroundings, its modern lines and large windows almost defiant against the rugged beauty of the countryside. To one side of the property, a smaller, traditional-looking cottage sits quietly, its windows dark and shutters drawn tight, as though asleep.

This is exactly how Niamh O’Dwyer described it in her emails. The grey stones of the main house blend seamlessly with the stormy clouds overhead. Despite the allure of it all, you hesitate at the edge of the gravel path. The silence presses in, broken only by the distant crash of waves. You take a breath and step forward, every crunch of gravel underfoot seeming to echo through the still air.

You knock lightly on the door, shifting nervously as the sound of footsteps approaches from inside. The door swings open swiftly, and Niamh herself appears. Her tailored blouse and pressed trousers fit her perfectly, her auburn hair swept back neatly. Bright blue eyes scan you with a gaze that is sharp but not unkind.

She calls your name, her Irish accent lilting yet crisp. “Glad to see you made it in one piece. Come in before you freeze.”

You step inside, clutching your bag awkwardly. The warmth of the house contrasts starkly with the damp chill outside, and you take a moment to adjust. Everything about Niamh—her posture, her voice, her movements—seems as polished and deliberate as the house itself. The cedar-and-floral scent in the air feels curated, like everything else in the space. She takes your coat, leaving you in the kitchen as she hangs it neatly on a peg before returning.

“Let me show you around before you meet Callum,” Niamh says, her tone efficient but not unkind. “He’s napping, which means I have approximately fifteen minutes to get you oriented before chaos ensues.”

You follow her through the house as she walks you through the layout and the routines you’ll need to know. Her voice remains steady as she details Callum’s favorite toys, his bedtime rituals, and the parts of the house that are strictly her space. The house is modern yet understated, with granite countertops and sleek furniture that somehow feels more like a showroom than a home.

When the tour circles back to the kitchen, you find yourself staring out of its massive windows. The Atlantic stretches out toward the horizon, and the waves lap at the cliffs below. The view is breathtaking, though it makes you feel small in its vastness.

“This will be your domain as much as mine,” Niamh says, leaning against the counter. Her sharp gaze rests on you, appraising but calm. “I’ve had a few au pairs over the years, but none of them stuck for long. I hope you will.”

The weight of her words settles uncomfortably in your chest. “I’ll do my best.”

Her eyes flick over you once more, and her expression softens ever so slightly. “Callum’s a sweet boy, but… he’s had a rough time since the divorce. I need someone who’ll be patient with him.”

You nod, your heart tightening at the mention of Callum. “I’ll take good care of him.”

“I believe you will,” Niamh replies simply, glancing at the clock. “And with that, it’s time. Are you ready?”

Callum is small for his age, with tufts of brown hair and wide, curious blue eyes that seem to take in everything around him. When Niamh brings him out, he clings to her leg, his gaze flicking toward you with a mixture of shyness and fascination.

“Callum,” Niamh says gently, crouching down beside him. “This is the person I told you about. She’s going to take care of you while I’m at work.”

Callum glances at you again, his small hand clutching his mother’s trousers tightly. “Like Mam?” he whispers.

The question catches you off guard, but you crouch down to his level, smiling softly. “I’ll be here to play with you and help you with anything you need.”

Niamh ruffles his hair lightly, her lips tightening ever so slightly. “Go on, Callum. Say hello.”

He steps closer hesitantly and holds out a small hand. “Hello,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You take his hand, his fingers warm against yours. “Hello, Callum. I think we’re going to be great friends.”

For a moment, he studies you with an intensity that only children seem to possess, then nods solemnly. Something in your chest eases as he flashes a tentative smile.

The days pass quickly as Callum begins to settle into a routine. At first, he watches you cautiously, his wide eyes tracking your every move. But gradually, he begins to open up—a smile here, a giggle there. He peppers you with questions, each one more relentless than the last.

“Why is the sky blue?” the 5 year old asks one afternoon as the two of you sit on the plush carpet in the living room, the soft glow of the fire lighting the room.

“Because it reflects the sea,” you reply with a smile.

“Why does it reflect the sea?” he counters, tilting his head.

“Because it’s magic,” you answer, your tone conspiratorial.

His giggle is warm and bright, a sound that fills the room and lingers in the air. “You’re funny, Mamaíín,” he says suddenly, the Gaeilge term slipping from his lips effortlessly.

The nickname catches you off guard. Though you don't know what it means, it feels too intimate. The way his little voice says it is far too heavy with unspoken meaning. Niamh overhears one morning and corrects him sharply—you hesitate to correct him yourself, unsure if it would do more harm than good, and you notice Niamh watching you differently after that, her sharp gaze lingering on you in quiet moments.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Bedtime becomes a cherished ritual. Callum clings to you as you read to him, his small hand resting against yours. Many nights, he insists you stay until he falls asleep, his voice drowsy as he whispers, “Just five more minutes.”

One quiet evening, after Callum is asleep, you find yourself alone in the living room, staring out at the horizon. The waves rise and fall steadily, their rhythm grounding and hypnotic. You love the silence of the countryside, the stillness it offers, but some nights it leaves you restless, your thoughts echoing too loudly in your head.

The crunch of gravel under heavy footfalls pulls you from your reverie. You frown, squinting at the figure moving through the darkening landscape, the sun having almost disappeared from the sky. He walks with a casual ease, his strides unhurried and deliberate. You move closer to the door, peering through its frosted glass as he approaches.

The knock is gentle but firm, and you open the door cautiously. The man standing there is tall, his broad shoulders draped in a dark coat speckled with snow. His hair curls slightly at the edges, glistening with moisture, and his smile is warm but faintly amused. Something about the squint of his eyes reminds you of Callum and Niamh.

“Paul?” you ask, blinking momentarily. He smiles and extends a hand. Niamh mentioned him briefly—a stay in the cottage over the holidays.

“You must be the new nanny,” he says, your name rolling off his tongue in a voice that’s deep and lilting. His gaze is steady, curious but friendly. The word nanny makes you pause for a second—it feels a bit off, not quite what you’d call yourself. But you brush it aside, taking his hand in a firm shake.“That’s me. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he replies, his eyes briefly scanning the house behind you. “Callum told me you’re funny.”

You smile, a small laugh escaping. “He likes to say that.”

Paul nods, the faint amusement in his expression softening as his gaze returns to you. “Well, you must be doing something right if he’s saying good things about you. He’s a tough nut to crack.”

“He’s a good kid,” you reply, stepping aside to let him in.

Paul steps inside, his boots leaving faint wet prints on the floor. His presence fills the space immediately, and you can’t help but feel like the house has changed just by him being here.

Paul steps further into the house, his gaze wandering curiously over the photographs on the walls and the furniture arranged with meticulous precision. His presence feels unhurried, yet somehow commanding, as though he belongs here, yet has been away too long.

“She still loves those old frames,” Paul remarks, pausing by a photo of himself and Niamh, their smiles frozen in a moment that looks like it was captured at a birthday party. “Mum used to have ones just like these in her house.”

You nod, unsure how to respond, so you motion toward the kitchen instead. “Can I get you something? Tea? Coffee?”

“Tea would be great, thanks,” Paul replies, settling himself at the kitchen table. He moves with ease, his broad shoulders and relaxed posture making the room feel smaller, cozier. His hands rest loosely on the table, their rough edges faintly tensed.

You set the kettle to boil, reaching for a pair of mugs. Paul’s eyes follow you as you work, his gaze steady but not intrusive.

“You’ve done well to keep this place looking so tidy,” he comments. “It’s not easy with a kid like Callum running around.”

You glance at him over your shoulder, smiling softly. “He’s been… spirited, but it’s been nice. I think we’ve found our rhythm.”

Paul lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. “That’s saying something. Callum can be a whirlwind when he wants to be. I’m glad he’s warmed up to you, though. Niamh’s been worried about finding the right fit.”

The kettle whistles, breaking the momentary silence. You pour the boiling water into the mugs and place one in front of him before sitting at the kitchen island. The quiet intimacy of the room feels suddenly magnified, blanketed in the dim, hazy light of the early evening.

Paul takes a sip of his tea, his cerulean eyes meeting yours over the rim of the mug. There’s a softness in his gaze, an unspoken curiosity that sends a slight chill up your spine. “So, what’s it like being here? In the middle of nowhere, with a kid who never stops asking questions?”

You chuckle, your eyes flickering out the window to the darkened landscape beyond. “It’s peaceful. Different from what I’m used to, but in a good way. Callum’s questions keep me on my toes, though.”

Paul’s smile widens slightly, a faint glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “He used to ask me why the moon didn’t fall out of the sky. Wouldn’t let it go until I gave him an answer that satisfied him.”

“What did you tell him?” you ask, smirking.

Paul leans back slightly in his chair, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Told him it was magic. He believed me, of course. Kids always believe in magic when they’re young.”

Your smile lingers as you take a sip of your tea. “Magic’s a good answer. It’s been my go-to with him, too.”

Paul laughs gently, his gaze softening. “You’re good with him. It’s clear to see. I think Niamh made the right choice this time.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and you shift slightly in your seat, suddenly aware of the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

Paul nods, his expression thoughtful as he sets his mug down, empty. “Well, I should let you get some rest. I’ll head over to the cottage for the night. Niamh mentioned I’d be staying there.”

“Oh, right,” you say quickly, standing. “Let me grab you some sheets and a pillow. Everything else should already be set up.”

You hurry to the linen closet, pulling out a set of clean sheets and a pillow before returning to the kitchen. Paul stands near the door, his coat draped over his arm. His back is turned to you, the stretch of his shoulders visible through his white shirt, making you look away quickly.

“Here you go,” you say, handing him the bundle. “It’s just across the garden path. I’m sure you know where to go. But let me know if you need anything.”

Paul takes the sheets, his fingers brushing yours briefly. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

You open the door for him, the cold night air rushing in as he steps outside. He pauses on the threshold, his gaze meeting yours one last time. “Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight,” you reply, watching as he heads toward the cottage. The crunch of gravel under his boots fades into the dark, leaving you standing there, the house suddenly feeling much quieter than before.

A/N: one last thing, I am aware that Paul's actual sister is younger (and is named differently), but I'm just making the family stuff up :)

[divaofmads]

Bound by Desire

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader (Y/N: Referred to as Jade.)

!!Warning!!: +18 only, MDNI, Angst, Jealousy, SMUT, Fluff, Violence, Erotic, Dirty Talk During Sex (Language), Standing Sex, Unprotected Sex, Fingering, Big Age Gap (Jade 22 / Joel 54), Fast and Secretive Sex, Rough and Dramatic Joel, Pregnancy Fantasy (Morning-after pill exists), Obsessive Joel, possesive Joel,

Word Count: 15k

A/N: I apologize for the mistakes I made in English that is not my native language and I am trying to improve my writing skills.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

The world was now unrecognizable. The streets, once filled with the echoes of laughter, had turned into abandoned nightmares. Cracked asphalt was overgrown with wild weeds, and the roads were littered with the rubble of collapsed buildings. Rusted cars lay piled up along the curbs, nothing more than heaps of metal. Some had shattered windows, and bloodstains still marked their steering wheels. The entire scene was a haunting reminder of how swift and merciless the apocalypse had been.

The sky was covered with thick gray clouds. The wind carried the scent of burnt wood and rotting flesh, howling through the empty streets. The silence was so deep it sent shivers down one’s spine; only the distant echo of an infected’s scream broke the eerie stillness. The world no longer belonged to humans.

Joel Miller walked a few steps behind Ellie in silence. Ellie had her hands tucked into her pockets and occasionally kicked at the stones on the ground. As always, Joel remained on high alert. His eyes scanned the surroundings carefully, and his ears stayed sharp for the faintest sound. Because Joel had one rule: Always be prepared.

Ellie turned around and spoke to Joel. “Hey, Joel, imagine eating pizza on one of these streets. I bet this town would’ve been boring even back then.”

Joel frowned at Ellie’s absurd remark. “Focus, Ellie. Useless chatter distracts us.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, Mister ‘Serious Man.’ But admit it, these streets are so dull they could bore the dead.”

Ignoring Ellie’s attempts at humor, Joel kept walking.

The town must have once been full of life. Storefronts lined the streets, their rusty shutters now tightly closed. Some shop signs had fallen, their lettering faded with time. Around the corner, an old playground stood. The swings’ chains were rusted, and the ground, once covered in sand, had turned into a muddy mess.

Joel and Ellie reached a three-story building in the middle of town. The front facade was heavily damaged, its windows shattered. But the door was still intact. After scanning the surroundings carefully, Joel decided to go inside. He opened the door quietly and gestured toward Ellie. “Stay quiet.”

Ellie covered her mouth with one hand and mimicked Joel in silence.

The inside of the building was just as abandoned and decayed as the town outside. Wooden floorboards were rotting in places but still held firm. Torn posters and peeling paint covered the walls. In one corner, an overturned table and scattered chairs suggested that this place had once been a hotel.

Joel began checking the building. He opened each door, scanning the rooms. The place was silent, but that didn’t always mean it was safe. On the first floor, he found an old kitchen. Searching the cabinets, he managed to find a few canned goods.

Ellie’s eyes lit up at the sight of the cans. “Ooo! Chicken soup? Joel, this is a feast!”

Joel smirked slightly at Ellie’s excitement. “A feast, huh? We’ll see how cheerful you are when one of those infected screams outside.”

Ellie scoffed. “Ah, always cheerful Joel. We really need to find you a joke book.”

When they reached the third floor, Joel’s attention was drawn to an old bedroom. It was at the very back of the building, with only a small window—making them harder to spot from the outside. He propped a chair against the door to secure it.

Ellie tested an old bed in the room, bouncing on it slightly. “Not the most comfortable, but at least we’re not sleeping on the floor.”

Joel nodded. “It’ll do for the night. Get some rest—we need to move at first light.”

Ellie was used to Joel’s authoritative tone, but she couldn’t resist a final jab. “Sure thing, Mister ‘Never Smiles.’ Just don’t wake me up with your grumpiness.”

Joel rolled his eyes at her remark and sat down in the corner, pulling out his gun to clean it. But his gaze kept drifting toward Ellie.

After losing his own daughter, he couldn’t remember the last time he had cared about someone this much. He knew Ellie was a spark of hope in this broken world, and keeping her safe was his top priority.

Outside, trash rustled slightly in the wind. The inside of the building was cold, but it was safe enough for now. Wrapped in a blanket, Ellie slowly drifted into sleep while Joel remained on watch. His eyes occasionally wandered into the distance, lost in memories of the past.

Joel was keeping watch, lost in deep thought, when a sudden scream from outside startled him. His grip on his gun tightened instinctively. Ellie peeked out from under her blanket and whispered, "Joel? What was that?"

Joel pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. "Don't move. Stay here."

The silence above became even more unsettling as they heard the distant screams and footsteps approaching the building. Joel silently stood up and checked his weapon. Ellie's eyes widened with fear.

"Are you leaving? You're going to leave me here?"

"I need to see what's going on. I promise I'll be back. Lock the door, and if someone comes, don't make a sound."

Ellie bit her lip and nodded. Joel gripped his rifle tightly and slipped out of the room, moving cautiously down the hallway.

As he descended the stairs, he heard a muffled sound. Someone was crying.

Peering around the corner, he spotted a group of men trapping a woman against a wall. She was wearing a tattered, bloodstained sweater, her back pressed against the cold concrete. Her hands were raised defensively, like a wild animal forced into a corner. Her face glistened with sweat and fear.

"Stay away from me!" the woman shouted. "I'm warning you! If you come any closer..." Her voice trembled, but she tried to mask her fear with anger.

The men laughed cruelly. The one in front, a filthy man with broken teeth and a leather jacket, grinned like a predator.

"Oh, look at this little bird," he sneered. "Scared, aren't you? But fear just makes the game more fun, doesn't it, boys?"

The group responded with laughter.

The woman grabbed a rusty metal pipe nearby and swung it at the nearest man. He dodged, but the pipe struck his shoulder, making him curse in pain.

"You little bitch!" he spat.

"I told you!" she screamed. "Stay back! If you come any closer, I will kill you!"

Joel watched from the shadows, controlling his breathing, waiting for the right moment to act. But he knew the woman wouldn’t last long. The men were closing in, breaking her defenses bit by bit.

"Fighting back only makes things harder, sweetheart," another man taunted. "Now drop that pipe and be a good girl."

Tears welled in the woman’s eyes, but she held onto the pipe with all her strength.

Joel couldn't wait any longer. He took a deep breath and stepped out from the darkness, swiftly putting a silenced bullet through the head of one of the men.

As the body collapsed, the others spun around in shock. Joel wasted no time, charging at the second man and slamming the butt of his rifle into his face, knocking him to the ground. Then he turned to the woman. "Trust me. Now run!"

She hesitated for only a second before obeying, recognizing the determination in his eyes.

Joel now faced the remaining three men. They scrambled to pull their weapons. He ducked behind a nearby shelf as gunfire erupted, echoing through the building.

Upstairs, Ellie flinched at the sound of the shots, clutching her blanket tightly. She tried to stay quiet, just as Joel had told her, but she was trembling with fear.

Meanwhile, the woman hid in a dark corner as instructed, but one of the men spotted her. He lunged toward her. In desperation, she grabbed a brick from the floor and smashed it into his face before sprinting toward Joel.

Joel, momentarily surprised, quickly adjusted. "This way! Stay quiet!"

As they ran, she accidentally kicked a piece of metal, sending it clattering across the floor. The noise alerted one of the men, who turned to fire. Joel reacted instantly, taking him down with a single shot.

The last man charged at Joel. The woman seized the metal pipe again and swung hard, knocking the attacker to the ground.

Joel stood still for a moment, listening. When he was sure there were no more threats, he lowered his gun and turned to look at her.

She was panting, her face covered in sweat and dust. Joel, ever composed, calmly wiped his weapon.

Touching a wound on her shoulder, the woman finally spoke. "I don’t know who you are… but thank you."

"As long as you don’t try to kill me, we’re fine."

The woman raised an eyebrow at Joel’s harsh tone. "You can drop the tough guy act. You just saved my life."

Joel’s expression remained unreadable. "Saving your life doesn’t mean I trust you. What’s your name?"

After being hunted by raiders for days, the brief moment of relief made her legs give in, and she collapsed onto her knees. Her voice trembled as she answered, "Jade."

Joel watched as Jade sank to the ground, exhausted. Despite his usual cold demeanor, something inside him shifted. He crouched down, unzipped her backpack, and rummaged through it before pulling out a water bottle. As he handed it to her, his voice remained firm, almost interrogative. "Who were they? Why were they after you?"

Jade gulped down the water in one go, taking a few seconds to steady her breathing before looking at Joel. Fear still lingered in her eyes, but she was slowly regaining control. "I don’t know who they are. They’ve been following me for a while. They cornered me, set a trap. This… this kind of thing is normal in this world now."

Joel didn’t trust anyone in this new world. He needed to be sure she was telling the truth. "There has to be a reason. Either you did something to them, or you have something they want."

Jade scoffed and threw up her hands. "Oh, right, Joel. Because I’m probably carrying a bag full of gold, huh?… I was just trying to survive."

Joel narrowed his eyes, thinking. But before he could say anything, a small but firm voice interrupted from behind.

"Why are you being so hard on her?"

Joel turned quickly at the sound of Ellie’s voice. The young girl stood with her hands on her hips, glancing between him and Jade.

Jade couldn’t help but smile at the innocent but defiant stance Ellie took.

Joel sighed, "I told you to stay upstairs."

Ellie smirked, "And, like always, I didn’t listen."

As she hurried down the stairs, Joel let out a frustrated sigh. Jade watched them, shaking her head in mild amusement at their dynamic.

Ellie plopped down next to Jade and leaned in. "Hey, uh… what was your name again?"

"Jade," she said softly.

With her usual teasing tone, Ellie grinned. "I’m Ellie. Don’t you think Joel’s a little too grumpy?"

Jade smirked and gave Ellie a knowing wink. "I’d say he’s more than just grumpy. But thanks. Honestly, it’s kinda entertaining."

Ellie chuckled. "Oh, I bet. But seriously, he acts all tough, but deep down, he’s got a soft side."

Joel, overhearing, turned and frowned at her. "No one gave you permission to talk about me, Ellie."

Ellie shrugged. "Relax, big bad wolf. I’m just telling the truth."

Ignoring him, Ellie scooted closer to Jade, clearly curious. "So, you’ve been out here alone this whole time? How’d you manage that?"

Jade couldn't resist Ellie’s sincere and curious demeanor and answered, “I guess you could call it luck. Or maybe I just run really fast. But I’ve never seen someone like you around.”

“I’m a special kind,” Ellie replied. “Like… think of me as a superhero.”

Jade chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, I noticed. You do seem pretty special.”

Ellie suddenly became serious and turned to Joel. “We’re not leaving her here, right?”

Joel shook his head and replied firmly, “Ellie, you can’t trust anyone in this world. This is her choice.”

“No, Joel. It’s not her choice. We can’t abandon her.”

Jade was momentarily stunned by Ellie’s words and glanced at Joel. “Listen, it’s really fine. I won’t cause any trouble for you. I can take care of myself.”

Joel scoffed at her words. “Take care of yourself? A group of guys almost tore you apart a few minutes ago.”

Ellie was annoyed by Joel’s harsh tone. “Joel, enough! We all need each other to survive in this world. We’re not leaving Jade behind.”

Joel couldn’t respond to Ellie’s determination right away. He just sighed and shook his head. “Fine. But only for tonight. At first light, we’re leaving. And she’s going her own way.”

Ellie, feeling victorious, turned to Jade and winked. Jade, still hesitant but grateful, looked at Joel. “Thank you. Really.”

Joel said nothing as he began reloading his rifle. Jade realized that this man wasn’t one to show emotions, but she could see how much he cared about Ellie. That, at least, gave her a small reason to trust him.

As Joel slung his rifle over his shoulder and silently climbed the stairs, he kept an eye on the two girls following him. Ellie, still thrilled by their conversation, stuck close to Jade, eager to learn everything about her. Meanwhile, Joel felt the heavy weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. Now, that weight included Jade.

The upper floor was darker and dimly lit. It was clear that this place had once been a hotel, with time leaving its marks on the walls and furniture. The peeling wooden panels, the half-torn carpet on the floor, and an overturned chair in the corner were all silent witnesses to abandonment.

Joel pointed to a larger room at the end of the hallway and turned to Ellie and Jade. “You two stay here. I’ll keep watch in the other room.”

Ellie frowned. “Seriously? Wouldn’t it be safer if we all stayed together?”

Joel’s response was firm. “Ellie. No more arguing.

Ellie rolled her eyes but finally gave up. Jade gave Joel a grateful look and nodded before following Ellie into the room.

Ellie fluffed up an old mattress in the corner of the room and then turned to Jade. The bed was old and filled with creaky springs, but in this world, it was a luxury. Jade sat down and gazed out the window, while Ellie plopped down beside her, her curiosity evident. “Alright, tell me. Who are you? How have you survived? And why do you seem so… I don’t know, positive?”

Jade smiled and shook her head. “I wouldn’t say I’m positive. I just… accepted that I don’t have another choice.”

Ellie furrowed her brows, unsatisfied with the answer. “But from what I’ve seen, you’re pretty tough. I mean… whatever happened to you, it made you stronger. So, what was it? Your family?”

Jade’s smile faded instantly. She turned toward Ellie, but her eyes seemed to be looking far away. “My family… I saw the cruel side of this world early on. My dad died trying to protect us. My mom… she couldn’t take it. I lost everything before I was truly alone.”

Ellie’s eyes welled up with tears, but she quickly pulled herself together. “I’ve lost people too. Everyone has, right? But you… how do you keep going?”

Jade gave a small smile and shrugged. “Maybe surviving isn’t just about being strong. Maybe it’s about learning to find something beautiful.”

Meanwhile, in the next room, Joel sat on a chair by the window, his rifle resting on his lap. The moonlight was the only thing illuminating the room. He tried not to listen to the girls’ conversation, but the thin walls made it impossible.

Hearing Jade’s soft yet sorrowful voice, Joel felt something stir inside him. Her words brought back memories of his own losses. Sarah… those days. The anger and regret that constantly simmered inside him threatened to resurface.

Jade’s words echoed in his mind: "Maybe surviving isn’t just about being strong. Maybe it’s about learning to find something beautiful."

Joel found himself caught in that thought. What was he still trying to find in life? What was that beautiful thing for him, if not Ellie?

Ellie suddenly changed the topic and turned to Jade with a sly grin. “By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you look at Joel.”

Jade’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

Ellie shrugged, raising her eyebrows. “Living in the same space with him, I know Joel looks like a grumpy old rock. But… I think there’s something likable about him.”

Jade looked uncomfortable. “Ellie, you’re really imagining things. Joel is just…”

Ellie smirked. “Just what? Tough? Grumpy? Yeah, sure. But deep down, he’s got a heart. And I think you’ve noticed.”

At that moment, Joel, having heard enough, stood up and walked toward the door. He swung it open with determination, making both girls turn to him.

“Are you two going to shut up and sleep, or am I going to have to listen to this nonsense all night?”

Ellie couldn’t help but laugh at Joel’s grumpy reaction. Jade, embarrassed, avoided his gaze. “Oh, come on, Joel. Don’t be mad at us. We’re just having fun.”

Joel shot them a sarcastic look. “You’re giving me a headache. Now sleep.”

He slammed the door behind him, turning away, but a small, fleeting smile appeared on his lips. He quickly composed himself, shoving the feeling down as usual.

Ellie and Jade’s laughter still echoed in the room.

The morning had begun with a cold, gray sky, as if the clouds had wrapped the world in a thick blanket. The wind slipped through the broken windows of the abandoned hotel room, strong enough to disturb the sleep of those inside. As always, Joel was the first to wake up. His rifle was still by his side, his shoulders slumped after a sleepless night, his eyes tired but alert. He stood up and looked out the window. The streets were still quiet, but silence never meant safety.

Ellie and Jade were still asleep in the other corner of the room. Ellie was curled up in a blanket, snoring softly. Jade’s face was peaceful, yet the slight crease between her brows hinted at a night filled with deep thoughts. Joel averted his gaze from them and moved quietly. But just as he did, Ellie mumbled sleepily, “Joel… where’s breakfast?”

Joel shrugged and answered coolly, “Breakfast? Maybe you could ask one of the infected wandering outside.”

Ellie rubbed her eyes and sat up as Jade began to stir awake as well.

Jade silently got out of bed and started gathering her bag. Ellie, noticing her movements, asked curiously, “Hey, where are you going?”

Jade gave her a small smile. “Like I promised, I’m going my own way. You two are already carrying enough.”

Ellie’s expression changed immediately. Her eyes widened, her brows furrowed. “No way! I’m not leaving you like this. Joel, say something!”

Joel let out a deep breath. He seemed caught between Ellie’s insistence and Jade’s determination. He turned to Ellie. “Ellie, she’s made her decision. She doesn’t want to be a burden.”

Jade slightly lowered her head at his words. She thought he didn’t like her, unlike herself. “Thank you, Joel. For understanding.”

But Ellie wasn’t having it. She took a step forward, grabbed Jade’s bag, and slammed it onto the floor. “No, listen to me. Leaving alone would be stupid! And I care about you. You’re a good person, Jade. We can stay together.”

Joel was about to respond harshly, but Jade spoke first. “Ellie, you know how this world works. I can make it on my own. But… I have another plan.”

Ellie and Joel both turned to her with curiosity. There was a brief moment of softness in Joel’s eyes. “What plan?”

Jade pulled out an old map and spread it out on the bed. A small area was marked. “This place is called Cedar Heaven. It used to be a farming town, but now, it’s a community working to rebuild. They grow their own food, they provide education… and they have strong defenses against the infected.”

Ellie’s face lit up with hope. “Are you serious? This place is real?”

Jade nodded slightly. “I’ve met a few people who made it there. They’re survivors who came together. I want to join them. But the road is dangerous.”

Joel took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking in a calm but firm voice. “You can’t go alone. It’s too dangerous. The infected aren’t the only problem—there are hunter groups out there.”

Jade met his gaze. If he didn’t want her around, why was he offering now? “This is my choice.”

Joel looked at the map again. Cedar Heaven. The name sounded almost too good to be true, like a distant reflection of survival and hope. He placed the map back on the table, his voice breaking the silence with a tone of certainty. “Let’s make a deal.”

Jade was caught off guard by how sudden and direct he was. She raised her brows. “A deal?”

Joel nodded, his expression serious. “Take us to Cedar Haven. We need a safe place. And while we get there, you won’t be alone. We’ll go with you.”

Jade studied him carefully, weighing his words. Surprise, hesitation, and a hint of doubt flickered in her eyes. “You? But… I don’t have any real connection to this community. It’s just a name on a map. You don’t even know what’s waiting for you there.”

Joel’s voice was steady. “We don’t, but right now, it’s the best shot we’ve got. And I’d like to think you’re smart enough not to try going there alone.

Ellie jumped in, excitement in her voice. “This is a great idea! Jade, you don’t want to be alone, and we need a safe place. Joel’s brain actually works sometimes.”

Joel shot her a glare. “Ellie, be serious.”

Jade considered their offer. With Joel and Ellie, she’d be safer. But there was still one thing she wasn’t sure about. “And if I take you there… what if they don’t accept me? What if my presence causes problems?”

Joel’s voice didn’t waver. “Then we move on. But at least we’ll have tried. We won’t leave you behind. And in the meantime, we help each other.”

Jade’s hesitation lessened a little as Ellie gave her a warm look. “Come on, Jade. We make a great team. Besides, no one can be as grumpy and tough as Joel, so they’ll probably find you less of a problem.”

Joel rolled his eyes and chose not to respond to Ellie’s sarcastic remark. Jade was intrigued by Ellie’s energetic and charming attitude. She smiled slightly and replied, “Alright… I accept.”

Joel’s expression remained serious, but deep inside, he felt a sense of relief. Yet, he also knew he couldn’t distance himself from Jade. Maybe this journey was just an excuse for him, or perhaps, deep down, he felt that he needed to have Jade by his side. Jade, on the other hand, seemed to understand the complex emotions hidden behind Joel’s tough exterior. She silently nodded and moved to her corner to get ready.

Joel said, “Good. Let’s get packed. We don’t have much time.”

Ellie, filled with excitement, hugged Jade.

Ellie: “You’re awesome! Now you won’t be alone, and we’ll be safer. It’s a win-win situation!”

Jade was surprised by the warm welcome but accepted it with appreciation. She looked at Ellie with a faint smile. “I hope it’s as easy as you think.”

Ellie: “It will be! As long as Joel is here, we’re safe. He’s basically a human Terminator.”

Joel let out a deep sigh at Ellie’s comment.

Joel: “Ellie, stop chattering and get your bag ready. We need to leave now.”

But Joel knew that keeping Jade with them wasn’t just about survival. Even though he couldn’t name the feelings growing inside him, having Jade around gave him an unexpected sense of comfort.

The three of them started walking toward the outskirts of town. Abandoned cars, fallen power lines, and scattered metal debris reminded them once again of the hardships ahead. The scent of burnt wood and rust carried by the wind made the desolation of the place even more apparent.

Joel led the way, his rifle slung over his shoulder, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. His steps were quiet but determined. Ellie walked beside Jade, occasionally glancing at her as if she wanted to say something, but Joel’s silence seemed to have affected everyone. Jade, on the other hand, appeared fully focused on their task. Her eyes stayed on the road and the surroundings, inspecting the vehicles for anything useful.

Ellie was the first to break the silence. She turned to Jade with a slight smile. “Hey, Jade. Do you know anything about cars? I mean, do you know how to start one?”

Jade looked at Ellie, thinking for a moment before replying with a confident expression. “Yeah, I know a little. My dad used to be a mechanic. I used to help him sometimes when I was a kid. If the car is in working condition, it’s not that hard to get it running.”

Ellie’s face lit up. “Wow, that’s so cool! Joel usually gets the cars running, but… how should I put this? Sometimes, he relies on luck. One time, we actually set a car on fire while trying to—”

Joel suddenly stopped and turned to Ellie with a stern look. “Ellie. Be quiet.”

Ellie ignored Joel’s reaction, winked at Jade, and shrugged with a grin. Jade gave a small smile at Ellie’s playful attitude, but Joel’s serious demeanor made her keep her guard up.

A few minutes later, Joel suddenly raised his hand, signaling them to stop. The three of them immediately fell silent. Joel carefully observed a corner ahead. They were standing next to an abandoned parking lot filled with deserted cars, but some of them seemed to be moving. A faint growling sound echoed off the walls of the buildings.

Joel quickly turned back and spoke in a hushed voice.

Joel. “A group of infected. I don't know their exact numbers, but at least four or five. Stay quiet. Follow my lead.”

Ellie furrowed her brows and asked in a low voice, “What are we gonna do?”

Joel looked at Ellie first, then at Jade. “Jade, take Ellie and hide between the cars. I’ll go ahead and distract them. If things go south, take the back road and run.”

Jade hesitated, locking eyes with Joel. “What about you? Can you handle them all on your own?”

Joel answered with a cold expression. “This isn’t my first time. Just do as I say.”

A wave of unease and discomfort passed through Jade, but she didn’t argue with Joel’s determination. Grabbing Ellie by the arm, she pulled her towards the space between the cars.

Joel moved toward the parking lot with slow, steady steps. He readied his rifle and leaned against a car, scanning the area. The moving figures gradually became clearer. A group of infected had gathered around an old truck, growling and communicating with each other in guttural sounds. Joel took a deep breath and threw a rock at a car window, creating a sharp noise.

The infected immediately turned toward the sound. They hesitated at first but then slowly started moving in Joel’s direction. He held his breath, gripping his rifle tightly, aiming at the lead infected.

Meanwhile, Ellie and Jade crouched behind a car. Ellie tried to steady her breathing as she turned to Jade and whispered, “Can Joel really do this? Is he gonna fight them all alone?”

Jade frowned, watching Joel. Something stirred inside her. She admired his strength and experience, but the thought of leaving him to face this alone unsettled her.

She spoke in a protective tone, “Stay here. If anything goes wrong, signal me.”

Ignoring Joel’s orders, Jade quietly stepped out. Moving cautiously, she made her way toward him.

Joel had just taken down one of the infected when he spotted her and hissed, “What the hell are you doing? I told you to stay hidden!”

Jade shot back, “I’m helping you. Don’t be so damn arrogant!”

Joel glared at her for a moment, but when another infected lunged at him, he had to refocus. The two of them instinctively moved back to back, fighting together.

Joel was both surprised and impressed by Jade’s stance and courage. As he tried to suppress his thoughts, he found himself acknowledging that she was someone he could truly rely on. But with that trust came a storm of emotions he wasn’t ready to face.

Joel barked, “Jade, don’t turn your back! We take them down before they get close!”

Jade snapped, “Don’t give me orders, Miller! I’ve got my own plan!”

Joel’s eyes flicked to Jade’s stance. She moved with a calculated precision, not a trace of panic or fear. When an infected lunged at her throat, she sidestepped swiftly, driving her knife into its skull. Blood splattered over her hands, but she didn’t hesitate before shifting to her next target.

Joel stole a quick glance at Ellie. Her eyes were wide with fear, her hands trembling. His protective instincts overrode everything else.

Joel called out, “Ellie, stay there! Do not move!”

But just as he turned back, he was stunned. Jade was holding her own in a brutal fight. An infected had tried to tackle her, but she had thrown it off and finished it with a swift stab.

Joel muttered under his breath, half in admiration, “Damn… this woman’s a one-woman army…”

Jade noticed his stare but said nothing. Instead, she spotted an infected creeping toward Ellie.

Jade shouted, “Ellie, get down! Now!”

Ellie immediately dropped to the ground. Jade kicked over a nearby trash bin, crushing the infected beneath it, before swiftly finishing it off with her knife.

Joel watched as Jade’s protective nature became more evident than ever. She wasn’t just capable—she was willing to put herself on the line for Ellie.

Joel shot down a few more infected before yelling, “Jade, more are coming! We need to get out of here!”

Jade quickly scanned the area. Her eyes landed on an abandoned SUV. It looked old, but the door was slightly open, and it might still run.

Jade called out, “Miller, cover me! I’m gonna start that car!”

Joel frowned. “Without a key? How?”

Jade smirked. “Just watch me.”

She sprinted to the SUV, yanked the door open, and scanned the dashboard. No keys. She reached under the seat and found an old screwdriver. Memories of her father’s mechanic days rushed into her mind. She ripped off the cover under the steering wheel, exposing the wires.

Ellie, watching in shock, asked, “What are you doing?”

Jade, "I'm borrowing the car for a while."

Jade found the ignition wires and stripped them. Then, she rubbed them together, creating sparks. After a few attempts, the engine roared to life. But the growls of the infected grew closer.

As Joel fired his shotgun at the creatures, Jade started the engine and moved the vehicle. She turned it into a weapon, driving straight into the infected. Blood splattered onto the windows, revealing the impact’s brutality.

Joel took down the last few infected and sprinted toward the car. He jumped inside, breathless. Ellie, sitting in the back seat, stared at Jade in awe. "You're a mechanic, huh? You literally brought this thing back to life with magic!"

Jade, still breathless and exhilarated, replied, "You should thank my dad. He taught me everything."

Joel’s tone was harsh. "Don’t do that again. You don’t have to risk yourself just to protect Ellie."

Jade smirked. "Oh, were you worried? I do better when I take action on my own."

Joel didn’t respond. This was the moment he realized how strong Jade was—how she could be a real protector for Ellie. But deep inside, a strange spark of admiration for Jade had begun to ignite.

Jade gripped the steering wheel tightly, not even sparing a second to wipe the sweat from her forehead. Her eyes flickered between the cracked asphalt ahead and the growing horde of infected.

She thought to herself, Stay calm, Jade. This is easier than it looks. Just hit the gas and go. No problem, right?

Ellie leaned forward from the back seat, breathing heavily, her small hands clutching the edge of the seat. "Jade, come on! If we wait any longer, they’re gonna break through these windows!"

Joel shouted, "Drive! Now!"

Jade slammed her foot on the gas, but the vehicle lurched forward as it hit a toppled trash container. Her eyes locked onto the blood splattered across the windshield and the infected clinging to the glass. The creature clawed at the surface, and a deep terror stabbed through her chest.

Joel barked, "Don’t look at it! Focus on the road!"

Jade shook herself out of it. She floored the gas pedal, and the car lunged forward. The creature clinging to the windshield slammed into a metal pole and tumbled to the ground. But that didn’t stop the swarm of infected coming their way.

Joel’s voice filled the car. "Turn left! There’s a clearer path!"

Jade jerked the wheel, sending the car splashing through a massive puddle, mud spraying from the tires. Her hands were slick with sweat, and she felt like she was losing control of the steering. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an infected charging toward them—and then slamming into the side of the car like a sledgehammer.

Ellie screamed, "Joel! They're getting in!"

Joel remained calm, reloading his shotgun as he leaned back in the seat. His voice was steady. "Speed up. I’ve got you."

Something in those words steadied Jade. Her eyes flashed with determination.

Without hesitation, she swerved and aimed the car straight at a group of infected standing in the road. Metal met flesh. The windshield was painted red. Jade’s hands gripped the wheel even tighter as Ellie’s terrified voice rang out.

Ellie whimpered, "So much blood… Can’t we slow down a little?"

Jade glanced at the rearview mirror, watching the infected disappear behind them.

"No. We can’t."

Joel frowned as he realized what Jade was doing. She wasn’t just using the vehicle as transportation—she was turning it into a weapon. She plowed through the infected, transforming the car into a machine of steel and blood.

When Jade reached an intersection, she slammed on the brakes, and the car jolted to a sudden stop. Then, she quickly spun the wheel and took another route. Joel glanced at her profile, noticing the determination burning in her eyes.

Finally, they had escaped the infected. The vehicle rolled into an abandoned parking lot and came to a halt. When Jade turned off the engine, her hands were shaking. She exhaled deeply and rested her head against the steering wheel. In the backseat, Ellie was still trying to steady her breathing.

Joel lowered his rifle and looked at Jade. He tried to maintain a stern and cold expression, but there was gratitude in his eyes.

"You risked your life to protect Ellie," he said. "Good job."

Jade lifted her head, smirking despite her exhaustion. "Save the praise, Miller. I was just doing my job."

A faint smile ghosted over Joel’s face. In that moment, the tension between them seemed to shift into an unspoken understanding.

Finally, Joel spoke again, his voice a mix of sarcasm and something more thoughtful. "I hate to admit it, but… watching you fight the infected was surprising. You’re pretty good. So why do you act like a scared little girl when it comes to hunters?"

Jade turned to him, locking eyes. She wiped the sweat from her forehead, a small smile forming on her lips—though there was something much deeper hidden beneath it. "Because the infected are predictable. They’re just hungry. They act on instinct. But people… people are worse. They choose to be cruel."

Joel remained silent for a moment. Her words stirred something inside him. He now understood why she fought so fiercely, why her eyes burned with such determination. But he said nothing more.

Ellie, however, couldn’t stand the silence any longer. "But you have to admit, you two made a hell of a team! I mean, Joel, you were like a damn action hero with that rifle. And Jade, you turned that car into a freaking infected-crushing machine! You guys were awesome."

Jade let out a small chuckle at Ellie’s enthusiasm. "It’s easy to be a team when you’re in the middle of chaos."

Ellie noticed the hint of sarcasm in Jade’s voice but ignored it. Instead, she turned to Joel, pushing further. "Come on, Joel, admit it. Jade was impressive! Did you see the way she handled the wheel? It was like something straight out of a movie!"

Joel furrowed his brows, immediately catching onto Ellie’s teasing. His voice hardened slightly. "Ellie, enough. You talk too much."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Oh sure, because talking is what’s gonna get us killed, right?"

Joel decided to end the conversation there. He checked his rifle and then turned to Jade, his voice firm. "Let’s go. We can’t stay here any longer."

Jade gave a silent nod, loosening her grip on the steering wheel before pressing the gas. The car moved forward once more. The road ahead was littered with cracked asphalt, collapsed buildings, and abandoned vehicles.

A heavy silence filled the car, broken only by the low rumble of the engine and the distant howl of the wind.

Joel rested his right hand on the door handle, his eyes fixed on the window outside. But his mind was elsewhere—on Jade. The way she fought, her determination, and even the way she protected Ellie lingered in his thoughts. Deep inside, he felt a strange stirring—something he hadn't felt in a long time. I need to stop feeling this way, he thought.

Ellie couldn’t take the silence any longer and leaned forward from the backseat. “Hey, Jade. Do you know anything about music?”

Jade couldn’t ignore Ellie’s energy and smiled slightly. “Yeah, my dad used to sing while working in the repair shop. I learned a few songs from him.”

Ellie started humming a tune, then raised her voice a little.

"Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone… It’s not warm when she’s away…"

Jade hesitated for a moment before joining in. Their voices, even in the shadow of war, brought a fleeting moment of peace.

As she sang, Jade stole a glance at Joel. He was still silent, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. But the hard expression on his face seemed to soften just a little. She had to admit it to herself—she was drawn to Joel Miller. There was something beneath that tough exterior—the way he loved Ellie, his unwavering determination in battle, and the way he tried to hide his interest in her. It only made her more curious.

When the song ended, Ellie turned to Joel with a teasing grin. “Hey, Joel, have you ever sung a song? Have you ever had fun? Or have you just been scowling since the day you were born?”

A faint smile flickered on Joel’s lips but disappeared just as quickly.

“You two like to talk. I like to listen.”

Jade smirked at his response. She knew she had to push her complicated feelings aside for now and focus on the road. But being with Joel and Ellie gave her a sense of belonging she hadn’t felt in a long time.

As they continued their journey through the ruins of the world, each lost in their own thoughts, one thing was certain—despite everything, a bond was forming between them.

The road stretched endlessly ahead, like the faded memories of an abandoned town. Jade was at the wheel, her eyes scanning the road for obstacles. Ellie lounged in the backseat, rummaging through her bag while secretly forming a plan in her mind. Joel sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed over his chest, watching the outside world with a weighty seriousness—as if he carried the whole world on his shoulders.

Ellie glanced at Jade and Joel. There was something in the silence between them. Tension? Maybe. Or was it an unspoken pull between them? Ellie grinned to herself. They might need a little push.

Suddenly, Ellie leaned forward and tapped Jade on the shoulder. “Hey, we need to stop!” she said with sudden urgency.

Jade glanced at her through the rearview mirror, her brows knitting together. “Why?” she asked, though she was already easing off the gas.

Ellie clutched her stomach dramatically. “Why do you think? My stomach hurts. Maybe it was that old can of food, or…” She trailed off and turned to Joel with a smirk. “Maybe it’s because you’re so damn gloomy, Joel.”

Joel narrowed his eyes, his mouth opening as if to respond, but then he caught Ellie’s teasing grin and sighed instead. Jade chuckled as she pulled the car over.

As Ellie hopped out, she called back over her shoulder, “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone, okay?” She winked at Joel, who just raised his brows and turned away.

Silence settled over the car. Jade rested her elbows on the steering wheel, hands clasped together. Joel shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze still fixed outside. Jade considered breaking the silence but hesitated at Joel’s usual stern expression.

Joel finally turned to her. “Ellie’s playing a game,” he said flatly. “You realize that, right? She can feel the tension and is trying to leave us alone on purpose.”

Jade chuckled. “Are you serious?” she asked, but when she saw his unchanged expression, she stifled a laugh.

Joel furrowed his brows. “She’s set her sights on you, you know. She’s trying to make you part of the family. But I…” He stopped, looking at her. Seeing the amusement in her eyes, he frowned.

“Why don’t you take me seriously?” he asked, his tone slightly sharper.

Jade shrugged. “Because Ellie’s right. You are gloomy.”

Joel looked like he was about to get even more annoyed, but then his eyes lingered on the slight curve of her lips, and he realized this conversation was heading somewhere dangerous.

“Fine,” he muttered, exhaling deeply. “Say whatever you want.”

Jade kept her hands on the steering wheel, focusing on the road ahead. The silence between them was thick, like a dense fog. Joel sat beside her, one hand resting on his knee while the other absentmindedly stroked his beard. His eyes drifted over the ruined buildings outside, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

Time passed in that quiet tension. Finally, Jade gathered the courage to speak, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. She kept her eyes on the road.

“Joel… you know, you’re really hard to understand.”

Joel turned his head toward her, his face unreadable, but he had definitely heard the uncertainty in her voice.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his tone slightly rough.

Jade took a deep breath. She lifted her hands off the steering wheel, staring at them in the empty space for a few seconds as she thought. Then, she turned her head slightly and looked at Joel. Her eyes held a mix of emotions—hope, fear, and disappointment all tangled together.

"Uh..." she started, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... being around you feels strange. You're tough, grumpy... but at the same time, you're a good person. I mean, seeing your dedication to Ellie... it's impressive."

Joel tensed his shoulders under the weight of her words. He pressed his lips together as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

Jade stayed quiet for a few seconds before adding, "Sometimes... when people find more than they expected, they don’t know what to do with it."

Joel understood exactly what she meant. But the feelings her words stirred in him kept him from responding. He knew Jade had feelings for him, but he also knew he couldn’t return them. Years of pain, loss, and guilt had built a wall around him, keeping him from forming emotional attachments.

"Jade..." he finally said, his voice slightly cracked. "We just made a deal, remember?"

Those words hit Jade like a dagger to the heart. She quickly turned her eyes back to the road, gripping the wheel tightly. She was angry at herself—why had she been so open? Trying to compose herself, she let out a sharp laugh.

"Right, just a deal," she said. "Don't flatter yourself, Miller."

A few minutes later, Ellie returned to the car, holding a handful of gathered plants. A wide grin stretched across her face.

"Alright, we're ready!" she said, hopping into the car.

Joel shook his head. "You picked plants? What are you planning to do, Ellie? Make a bouquet?"

Ellie spoke seriously. "Of course not. We're going to use this for antiseptic. Also, I figured you two had talked. Don’t disappoint me."

Jade laughed at Ellie’s comment. "I think you're right about Joel."

Joel rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "Just drive. Let’s get going."

The road stretched ahead, and Joel remained silent. His eyes constantly scanned the surroundings for danger, but his mind was stuck on Jade’s words. The realization of her feelings stirred something inside him—something he wasn’t sure he could handle. A part of him wanted to embrace it, but another part knew he had to keep her at a distance. Everyone he had ever loved was gone. He couldn’t go through that pain again.

Meanwhile, Ellie kept chatting with Jade from the back seat, sharing childhood stories and cracking jokes about the old days.

"You know, Jade," Ellie said cheerfully, "you're not as grumpy as Joel. At least you smile every once in a while."

Jade laughed at Ellie’s comment, but her eyes drifted back to Joel. As she gazed at his stoic face, she realized how difficult it was to hide her own feelings. A voice inside her whispered, "You love him." But another voice warned, "This feeling will destroy you."

At one point, Ellie turned to Jade and asked about a song. "Come on, tell me. Do you know this one?"

Jade smiled. "Of course, I do," she said, and started singing along with Ellie.

As Joel listened to the two of them singing, he felt something inside him slowly start to unravel. But along with that unraveling came a sense of unease. Jade’s voice was cracking through his hardened shell.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he thought to himself, "What am I doing? I'm setting myself up for pain all over again."

Ellie then started another song:

"Country roads, take me home..."

Jade joined in. Her voice was softer compared to Ellie’s, but undeniably captivating. Joel kept staring out the window. Hearing Jade’s voice within the song, feeling the gentle tone of it, left him with a strange mix of peace and discomfort.

After a while, Joel took a deep, silent breath and shook his head slightly. "How much longer do I have to put up with Ellie’s little games?" he wondered. But deep down, he couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward Jade’s presence.

After a long and arduous journey, Joel, Ellie, and Jade finally arrived at the entrance of Cedar Heaven. The settlement was surrounded by massive concrete walls, protecting the remnants of civilization inside. From the outside, the contrast between the sanctuary and the chaotic world beyond was immediately apparent. Machine gun towers lined the walls, soldiers patrolled the perimeter, and a heavily fortified metal gate stood at the entrance, emphasizing Cedar Heaven’s determination to survive.

As they approached the gate, the sounds of life within reached their ears—children’s laughter, workers shouting, the rhythmic hum of generators. Yet, this peaceful ambiance was starkly contrasted by the stern expressions of the soldiers guarding the entrance.

A soldier raised his hand, commanding them to stop. "Halt! Don’t come any closer!" he ordered in a firm voice. Several others aimed their weapons at them. Ellie flinched slightly, but Joel immediately stepped forward to negotiate.

"We came a long way to get here," Joel said. "We’re just looking for a place to rest."

The soldier narrowed his eyes at him. "All of you? Drop your weapons and walk slowly toward the gate."

Joel scoffed at that. "Drop our weapons? In this fucked-up world, trusting someone is a death sentence. Give me one good reason to do that."

Ellie rolled her eyes at Joel’s rough tone. "Joel, if you keep talking like that, they’ll send us back before we even get in," she muttered.

Realizing that Joel’s approach was making things worse, Jade quickly intervened. She stepped forward with her hands open, speaking in a calm tone. "Look, we’re all exhausted. We’ve been traveling for a long time, and we really just need a place to rest. We’re not trying to bargain with you—we’re just trying to survive."

The soldier hesitated for a moment at Jade’s more peaceful approach. "We don’t know who you are. Cedar Heaven takes security seriously. How do we know you’re not infected?"

Jade understood their concern. She pulled out a map from her bag and showed the route they had taken. "We encountered infected along the way. If any of us were bitten, we wouldn’t have made it this far."

Joel interjected in his usual gruff tone. "Listen, if you're that paranoid, scan us. But hurry it up, because this kid..." He gestured at Ellie. "...is tired and hungry."

Ellie’s face flushed. "Hey, don’t call me ‘kid’ like that, Joel!"

The soldier glanced between Jade and Joel before speaking into his radio. "Three civilians at the checkpoint. We need a scan. Can we grant temporary access?"

A few minutes later, someone emerged from a small booth near the gate, holding an old medical scanner. The device emitted a high-frequency beep as it activated, designed to detect infection levels in the blood. Any anomaly would trigger an alarm.

Joel grumbled impatiently as they were scanned. "This is the dumbest damn procedure. If we were infected, do you think we’d still be standing here?"

Jade turned to him with a scolding look. "Joel, please. Just be patient."

Once the scan was complete, the device confirmed that they were clean. One of the soldiers turned to the gate and radioed for approval. A tense silence followed, making Joel’s patience wear even thinner.

Finally, the massive metal gate began to open, revealing the life inside Cedar Heaven. Green spaces, running generators, smiling people, and even a small market area came into view. Ellie’s eyes lit up. "Whoa… is this real? It looks like a dream!"

Joel, however, remained cautious. "Not a dream, Ellie. Nowhere is completely safe," he said gruffly.

Jade felt a mixture of relief and guilt as they stepped inside. She knew she needed to talk to Joel about his harsh attitude at the checkpoint, but she also understood that there was more to his behavior than just stubbornness.

As they entered, a settlement official greeted them and explained the basic rules. "All newcomers to Cedar Heaven must remain under observation for three days. During this time, you’ll be assigned temporary housing. Your needs will be met, but for the safety of the community, you must abide by our rules."

Joel didn’t seem too pleased with the official. Meanwhile, Ellie, still marveling at the settlement, laughed as she watched Joel and Jade’s constant bickering. All she could think was that this place might bring not only safety—but also a bit of entertainment.

Although Cedar Heaven seemed like a utopia compared to the outside world, strict discipline was enforced to maintain order. There was a quarantine area specifically for newcomers to prevent the community from being threatened by an infected individual. Joel, Ellie, and Jade were assigned to a barrack made of wooden planks and metal sheets—minimal but clean. Compared to the ruins of the outside world, this place offered a level of comfort that could almost be considered luxurious. Inside, there were two bunk beds, a small table, a few chairs, and an old but functioning gas stove placed in the corner.

Near the door, a few basic supplies provided by the community were neatly stacked: several bottles of water, canned food, hand sanitizer, and a few pieces of clean clothing. The clothes were donations from the community, chosen for practicality—durable pants, thick sweaters, and weather-appropriate boots. Upon seeing the clothes, Ellie mumbled under her breath,

"Fashion week is definitely canceled here..."

Joel responded with a smirk, "There’s no place for fashion in this world, Ellie. Does it work? Then you wear it."

Jade silently examined the clothes, choosing a pair of pants and a sweater. The ongoing tension between her and Joel was evident on her face. She averted her gaze, standing quietly in the corner, trying not to draw attention.

Meals in Cedar Heaven were served at specific times in a communal dining hall. When Joel, Ellie, and Jade entered for the first time, they couldn’t help but admire the organization and discipline within the hall. People sat at long tables, eating the distributed meals and engaging in quiet conversations. The food was simple but filling—bean soup, a few slices of bread, and canned vegetables.

Ellie took a sip of the soup and scrunched up her face. "What is this, Joel? Are we eating rubber?"

Joel lifted his spoon and took a big sip, then raised an eyebrow at her. "If you wanna survive, you eat it. Stop complaining."

Jade remained silent as she sipped her soup, not engaging much in the conversation. Noticing her quietness, Ellie nudged her lightly with her elbow.

"Hey, silent princess, don’t be so withdrawn. You better start talking to us, or you’ll be stuck listening to Joel’s boring stories."

Jade smiled but didn’t reply. Joel shot Ellie a sharp look. "My stories aren’t boring."

Ellie pursed her lips and grinned. "Of course, Joel. Of course..."

That night, Ellie had asked for permission to stay in the dining area and chat with new people. Joel hesitated but eventually let her go, knowing she needed to spend some time with others her age. This left only Joel and Jade in the barrack. As silence filled the room, Joel sat at the edge of the table, spinning his knife absentmindedly. Jade sat on the bed in the corner, flipping through the pages of an old book. Yet both of them were preoccupied with the weight of the silence.

Joel's mind kept drifting to Jade. He wanted to resolve the tension between them, but he didn’t know where to start. Finally, he took a deep breath and decided to speak.

"Jade..." he said, his voice initially soft but then growing firmer.

Jade lifted her head, surprised but wary. "Yes, Joel?"

Joel set his knife down on the table. "I know how I’ve treated you throughout this journey. I’ve been harsh. Unfair. But... this is who I am. And I can’t change that."

Jade frowned. "Joel, what are you trying to say?"

Joel remained silent for a moment before averting his gaze and continuing, "I’ve tried to ignore the way you feel about me. But you keep pushing whenever you get the chance. The problem is... what you feel isn’t right for either of us."

Jade’s expression wavered between shock and disappointment as she responded, "What’s not right, Joel? Not running from my feelings? Don’t worry, I’ll meet new people soon and leave you in peace."

Joel’s face tensed with a bitter smile. "You’re still too young, Jade. And me... I’m just a wreck trying to escape my past. My life exists only to keep Ellie safe. I have nothing to offer you."

Jade felt the weight of his words sink in, falling silent for a moment. But with tears welling in her eyes, she looked at him. "I can’t change how I feel about you, Joel. Even if a platonic love hurts more than anything..."

Joel lowered his head, his words catching in his throat. "These feelings... they make you weak. I can't protect you, Jade. In this world, love is a luxury. And there's no room for luxuries."

The silence between them spread through the room like a heavy fog. "The fact that I don’t love you breaks your heart, Jade. But I had to make it clear for your own good."

When Ellie returned to the cabin in her usual cheerful manner, she immediately sensed the heavy atmosphere inside. Her eyes darted between Joel and Jade. "What happened this time? You two look like you just tore each other apart."

Joel didn’t answer and lay down on his bed. Jade, meanwhile, kept her gaze fixed on the floor. Ellie, after waiting for a moment, shook her head and muttered to herself, "Ah, the world of adults is so weird."

Joel turned in his bed, closing his eyes, but he knew the weight inside him wouldn't let him sleep that night. Jade, too, tried to suppress her emotions, yet Joel's words echoed in her mind: "The fact that I don’t love you breaks your heart, Jade."

The leader of Cedar Heaven, Markus Hayes, was a charismatic and intelligent man in his late thirties. Thanks to him, the community had developed an organized structure and remained largely isolated from the outside world. His ability to influence people was his greatest strength, solidifying his leadership. The arrival of Joel, Ellie, and Jade had been reported to him, and once their quarantine was completed, he invited them to his office.

The office was on the upper floor of Cedar Heaven’s main building, a spacious room filled with neatly arranged files and maps on a large wooden desk. The walls were decorated with old-world maps, community plans, and various documents concerning the survivors. Markus sat behind the desk, carefully reviewing reports.

When a knock came at the door, he took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. "Come in," he said, his voice calm yet authoritative.

Joel, Ellie, and Jade entered. Markus' sharp green eyes first scanned Joel, then Ellie. But when he looked at Jade, he hesitated for a brief moment. There was something about her posture, her quiet determination, and her beauty that caught his attention.

Markus stood up and walked towards them. "Welcome," he said. His voice was soft yet carried the weight of leadership. "I’m Markus Hayes, leader of Cedar Heaven. If you managed to make it here, you must be quite capable."

Joel shook Markus' hand with a short, firm grip. "Joel Miller."

Ellie stepped forward with a grin. "Ellie. And yes, we’re capable. But really, this girl," she gestured toward Jade, "she’s the one who got us here."

Markus turned to Jade and extended his hand. "Is that so? Then I must congratulate you… Miss?"

Jade hesitated before shaking his hand. "Jade. I just wanted to help."

Markus' smile widened. "Wanting to help is a rare thing in this world. I hope you find a good place here, Jade."

Joel immediately noticed Markus' interest in Jade. The subtle shift in his voice, the way his gaze lingered—it sparked something in Joel’s chest, an ember of jealousy. Clenching his jaw, he rolled his eyes. "We’re just here to rest. Then we’re moving on."

Markus shook his head slightly. "Ah, Joel… This place isn’t just a rest stop. People build their lives here. Maybe you should consider that."

Before ending the meeting, Markus explained the privileges the community could offer. "I’ll be granting you some additional assistance," he said. "After all, we can always use talented people from the outside."

Joel responded with a sarcastic expression. "And what exactly do these ‘benefits’ have to do with us?"

Markus smirked, turning to Jade. "I just like to reward capable individuals, Joel. Especially someone as intelligent and strong as Jade."

Jade averted her gaze, slightly flustered. Joel, on the other hand, took a deep breath, struggling to keep his patience in check. "Seems like we need some rest. Can we leave now?"

Markus, sensing Joel’s frustration, remained unfazed. "Of course. But Jade, if you’d like to learn more about our organization, you’re welcome to visit me later."

As Joel headed for the door, Ellie was clearly amused, trying hard not to laugh. "Ah, Markus is such a sweet guy, isn’t he, Jade?" she teased.

---

Back at the cabin, Joel was nearly seething. His hands clenched, his face dark with frustration as he paced to the corner of the room. Ellie, enjoying the scene, sat back while Jade remained silent.

Joel finally broke the silence. "What exactly is this 'special treatment' that man is giving you, Jade?"

Jade lifted her head, meeting his gaze. "What do you mean?" she asked, her tone firm.

Joel took a step closer. "He made his interest in you pretty damn clear. Did you like that?"

Jade narrowed her eyes. "Does it matter, Joel? Or did you come here just to interrogate me?"

Sensing where this was going, Ellie quickly intervened. "Okay, okay, calm down! Joel, Markus was just being nice. And Jade benefited from it. We all did. Now don’t tear each other apart over it, alright?"

Joel didn’t respond to Ellie. He just took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. Jade turned away, hurt. She couldn’t understand why her feelings were affecting Joel this much.

Without looking at Ellie, Joel muttered, "We just need some rest."

But Jade could sense the storm of emotions behind his words. Joel’s jealousy confused her, but she had no plan to unravel it. The coming days in this community would only add more tension.

---

The next morning, Joel, Ellie, and Jade gathered in front of the large wooden building serving as the community's headquarters. It was a repurposed old town hall, its windows reinforced, solar panels lining the roof, and barbed wire surrounding the perimeter. From inside, the sounds of controlled chaos echoed—orders being shouted, discussions taking place, engines rumbling.

Markus emerged, dressed in a pragmatic yet refined manner. Even his clothing exuded authority and charisma; a sturdy leather jacket, binoculars and a notebook in his side pockets, an antique revolver at his belt. His eyes landed directly on Jade, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

"It’s time to introduce you to the way things work here in Cedar Heaven," Markus announced. He gestured toward the entrance, leading the group inside.

Inside, a large board displayed a list of assigned tasks: food supply, defense, training, repairs, medical production, and scouting. Markus pointed to each category, explaining who would be assigned where.

"Ellie, you’ll be in the training program. You’re young, you’ll learn quickly. Also, you’ll be trained in archery. We need to expand our skill sets." Ellie scrunched her nose. Training sounded way too boring for her.

Joel spoke briefly and to the point. "Joel Miller, you'll be assigned to defense and external patrol duties." His words were cold and formal. The mission was dangerous; there was always a risk of encountering infected or hostile groups. Joel understood this and frowned.

When it was Jade's turn, Markus’ tone changed completely. "Jade, you've proven yourself impressive with your repair skills. You'll be working with the machines and vehicles here. Also..." he said, locking eyes with Jade, "...you could join our management team. We need someone as talented as you."

Joel's hand clenched into a fist involuntarily. His face gave nothing away, but his mind was a storm of anger, jealousy, and frustration. Markus’ blatant interest in Jade was driving him mad.

After assigning the tasks, Markus promised Jade a more comfortable life in Cedar Heaven. "If you agree to join the management team, we'll provide you with a private accommodation. And we can arrange better supplies for you as well."

Jade furrowed her brows unconsciously. Markus’ interest was obvious, but these privileges were tempting after the harsh years she had endured. Yet, she couldn’t ignore Joel's reaction. When she stole a glance at him, she noticed the tension in his jaw.

Ellie stood beside Joel, visibly annoyed by Markus' words. "This guy really sticks his nose into everything, huh?" she muttered.

Joel said nothing. His hands were clenched at his sides, and his eyes were fixed on Jade. In the midst of all this special attention, he noticed how she looked—her eyes cast downward, considering the privileges Markus had offered, yet seeming like she wanted to be anywhere but there. Joel knew how strong Jade was, yet seeing her looking vulnerable affected him in ways he didn't understand.

That night, when Joel retreated to his bed, his mind was filled with thoughts of Jade and Markus. The thoughts wouldn’t let him sleep. He kept replaying Jade’s reaction to Markus’ words over and over again. It was impossible to ignore Markus’ clear desire to keep Jade close.

Ellie’s words echoed in his mind: "What do you think about Jade and Markus?" Joel hated that he couldn’t answer that question. The idea of Jade being close to someone else was driving him insane.

Joel finally made a decision. Instead of denying his feelings for Jade, it was time to say something. But just as he was about to act, Ellie entered the room.

"Joel," she said, her voice tired but firm. "We can’t let Jade be pressured into this. Markus seems decent, but we need to protect her. Don’t forget that."

Joel pondered the meaning behind Ellie’s words. Protect Jade... But was this just about keeping her physically safe, or was there something deeper—something about his inability to control his own emotions?

Mornings in Cedar Heaven were always busy and structured—patrol teams, farming work, and the distant echoes of gunfire from the training grounds filled the air. As Joel prepared for his first patrol, he headed to the defense equipment depot, which had been converted from an old garage. Around him, militia members of various backgrounds prepared in silent determination. The scent of metal and gunpowder reminded him of FEDRA outposts. He scanned the shelves, memorizing the locations of every weapon and bullet. This was how he survived—by being prepared.

The patrol leader showed Joel a simple route. On the map, Cedar Heaven’s perimeter was outlined with barbed wire, watchtower locations, and potential threat zones. "Joel, you’ll be patrolling the northeastern sector," the leader said. "We spotted a few infected there last week, but it should be clear for now. Stay sharp."

Joel acknowledged the instructions with a small nod. He pulled on a thick vest and grabbed a shotgun. As he inspected the weapon, his hands instinctively checked the trigger mechanism, a habit from years of experience. He was as stoic as ever on the outside, but his mind was elsewhere. Jade.

He had only seen her briefly that morning. She had gone to the vehicle repair area to start her assigned tasks. Even that short glimpse of her had stirred a wave of jealousy inside him. Markus’ obvious attraction to her made Joel’s blood boil. But Jade wasn’t just someone who didn’t belong with Markus. She was someone who represented a light in Joel’s life. And Joel couldn’t allow that.

As he patrolled the perimeter, his eyes scanned the surroundings, but his mind was fixated on Jade. Every shadow among the trees, every whisper of the wind carried echoes of her voice. He cursed himself. Survival in this world left no room for emotions. But no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, Jade’s presence haunted him like a ghost.

Jade had been working in Cedar Heaven’s repair area since early morning. Thanks to what she had learned during quarantine, most of the vehicles here were operational, though the lack of spare parts slowed things down. After listening to Markus’ instructions, she had picked up a wrench and got to work.

She relied on the knowledge her father had taught her about fixing vehicles. As she lifted the hood and examined the engine, her hands worked out of muscle memory. With dirty fingers, she checked the battery connections and spotted a leak in the radiator. She felt a quiet sense of pride—she could tell Markus was watching her with admiration. But that admiration made her uncomfortable. Because there was another pair of eyes she wanted to see. Joel’s eyes.

She convinced herself that Joel didn’t care about her. She reminded herself of this every single day. His cold and distant demeanor had slowly drained her courage. Who was she fooling? She had once believed that Joel was someone she could trust. But in the end, Joel only cared about his own survival and Ellie. She had learned not to trust people, and Joel was no exception. So she decided to keep her distance. But that decision didn’t stop her from secretly watching him whenever she could. She knew his patrol schedule, knew when he came and went.

As Jade wiped the grease from her hands, her eyes drifted toward Joel, who was walking in the distance with his shotgun slung over his shoulder. He looked strong and determined, and she couldn’t help but admire him. But admiration was mixed with sadness. Because Joel’s distance sent her a clear message: "Stay away from me. Don’t trust me. I’ll only hurt you."

Joel patrolled the perimeter, locked in an internal battle. On one hand, he told himself he shouldn’t think about Jade. She would be better off with someone like Markus, a leader who could offer her stability. But on the other hand, the thought of Jade smiling next to Markus ignited a rage inside him. He struggled to understand why his feelings were so intense. Jade wasn’t supposed to mean anything to him. But it wasn’t that simple.

His eyes drifted to where Jade was working. Her hands were covered in grease, her face illuminated by the sunlight. Every movement she made revealed her skill and strength. Joel thought of his past—Sarah, Ellie, and now Jade. The world had always taken away the people he loved. Maybe that was why thinking about Jade hurt so much. Because if he let himself get close, he would lose her too.

They were so close, yet so far from each other.

Cedar Heaven was running as usual, but for Markus, seeing Jade had become one of the moments he looked forward to the most in his day. On the outside, she appeared tough and distant, but Markus saw the fragility, intelligence, and strength within her. He admired Jade’s diligence and skill. Instead of hiding his admiration, he started making up excuses to call her frequently.

That morning, Jade was busy inspecting a vehicle in the repair workshop. Her hands were greasy as she worked under the hood when one of Markus’ assistants arrived. "The leader wants to see you," said the young woman. Jade frowned—Markus’ summons had been becoming more frequent lately, and it unsettled her. Nevertheless, she nodded politely and grabbed a cloth to clean her hands.

Jade knocked on the door, and Markus invited her in. As always, he looked cheerful and friendly.

"Jade, you arrived just on time," Markus said, setting aside the papers in his hand. "I need to ask you something."

Jade patiently listened to Markus, but she soon realized that his real intention wasn’t to consult her—it was simply to spend time with her. Their conversation shifted from Cedar Heaven’s tasks to Jade’s past.

"Your father was a mechanic, wasn’t he? It shows," Markus said, complimenting her as he offered her a cup of coffee. Jade declined, but the warmth in Markus' gaze made her even more uncomfortable.

Markus kept finding excuses to get close to her, touching her hair, brushing her cheek, or standing so close that there was almost no space left between them. His meaningful stares made it clear that he wanted her to feel the attraction between them.

"You are one of the most talented people here, Jade," Markus said, his eyes locked on her face. "It's a privilege to work with someone like you."

Jade responded with a forced smile. She could have stopped Markus from behaving this way, but she didn’t. Whenever Joel disappointed her or made her feel inadequate, she used Markus’ attention as a defense against the anger she felt toward Joel. But she was making a mistake. Even though she remained cautious around Markus, he interpreted her tolerance differently, taking it as encouragement.

When Markus suddenly grabbed her waist and pulled her close, Jade was caught off guard. She thanked him for the conversation but quickly made up an excuse to leave the office. She felt as if her chest was tightening. Markus’ intentions were now clear, but she didn’t have the courage to confront him about it.

By the time Joel returned to Cedar Heaven from his patrol, he was exhausted, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of Jade. After handing in his weapon at the depot, he searched for Ellie. He found her sitting in the cafeteria, stirring a hot bowl of soup that Jade had brought her.

"Ellie," Joel said, his voice carrying a tired but firm tone. "How are you?"

Ellie put her spoon down and smirked. "I'm fine. But judging by that look on your face, I’d say you’re not."

Joel ignored her teasing. He sat down and stared at Ellie’s bowl. "Where's Jade?" he asked.

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Last I saw, she was in Markus' office. He calls for her a lot. Something’s going on."

Joel's brows knitted together. "What do you mean?"

Ellie shrugged. "Can’t you see it? The guy is obviously into her. Rumors spread fast."

Joel's face grew more tense as he processed Ellie’s words. Under the table, his fists clenched, and he gritted his teeth. His jealousy burned, mixing with his growing anger. The mere thought of Jade spending time with Markus was enough to drive him crazy. But he couldn't let it show.

He stood up and walked outside, letting the cold air hit his face as his mind spiraled. Markus’ interest in Jade was obvious. But what bothered him even more was that he didn’t know how Jade felt about it. Maybe she felt safer around Markus. Maybe she was responding to his flirtatious gestures, smiling that sweet smile of hers—the one that haunted Joel’s thoughts.

Joel knew his dark past made him unworthy of someone like Jade. But that didn’t stop the jealousy from eating him alive.

Ellie’s words echoed in his mind. Jade being in Markus’ office, Markus finding excuses to touch her... These thoughts fueled Joel’s anger. He felt humiliated, but the worst part was the fear of losing her.

As Cedar Heaven’s daily routine continued, Jade noticeably distanced herself from both Joel and Ellie. At first, it seemed temporary, but over time, it became a habit. Whenever Ellie saw Jade in the cafeteria, she would wave excitedly and try to strike up a conversation. But Jade always found an excuse to leave.

"I'll talk to you later, Ellie. I have a meeting to get to," she said once, motioning to the files in her hands.

Ellie didn’t understand why Jade was acting this way, but she had a feeling it had something to do with Joel. Joel, on the other hand, pretended not to notice. But each day, he became more withdrawn, sitting alone in a corner, watching everything from a distance.

Markus and Jade’s connection had become an open secret in Cedar Heaven. People whispered about how often Jade was summoned to his office and how Markus made efforts to spend time with her.

"I think Markus wants to keep Jade close," one woman whispered in the cafeteria.

"Close? I think it’s more than that," another responded with a smirk.

Hearing these rumors only made Joel’s anger grow. Everyone was talking about Jade and Markus, speculating about their relationship and questioning Markus' intentions. But what Joel couldn’t understand was why Jade tolerated it. These thoughts gnawed at him, filling him with a mix of rage and jealousy.

One day, in the storage area, Joel spotted Jade walking side by side with Markus. They appeared to be discussing something on a map, but Markus' smile and Jade’s relaxed demeanor were enough to make Joel’s blood boil. The weight in his chest grew heavier, and he found himself leaning against the wall, struggling to steady his breathing.

Ellie could see the change in Joel. He was quieter, angrier than before. During meals, he often drifted off, lost in thought, and during patrols, he was harsher than necessary. Eventually, Ellie decided to confront him.

"How long are you going to keep this up?" she asked, catching Joel at a rare moment alone.

Joel frowned, as if he didn't understand. "What are you talking about, Ellie?"

Ellie crossed her arms and gave him a challenging look. "I'm talking about Jade. You love her. We both know it. But what are you doing? Just standing back and letting Markus spend time with her."

Joel's face hardened. "Ellie, this is none of your business."

"Yeah? Well, you're not doing anything about it!" Ellie snapped. "Age gap, past, whatever… You're using those as excuses. But the truth is, Joel, you're just scared to tell her how you feel."

Joel felt anger rise within him, but deep down, he knew Ellie was right. The feelings he had for Jade sat in his chest like a heavy weight.

After Ellie’s words, Joel remained silent for a long time. Even when the stars appeared in the night sky, his thoughts were still on Jade. Every moment she spent with Markus was torture for him. But it was a torture he had created himself.

***

Cedar Heaven was on the brink of unexpected chaos. Midnight had passed, and most of the settlement's residents were asleep. But the first scream shattered the silence, changing everything. One of the patrol guards shouted that a group of infected had broken through the inner defense line. Within moments, sirens echoed through the settlement, filling the air with fear. People scrambled behind barricades, clutching the few weapons they had.

Joel was awake the moment he heard the alarm. Years of survival instincts kept him alert. He checked on Ellie—she had already jumped out of bed, eyes wide with shock and fear.

"Joel, what's happening?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Joel slung his backpack over his shoulder, his voice short and firm. "Infected. We need to make sure we’re safe before heading out. Stay close."

Ellie saw the seriousness in his expression and simply nodded. But Joel's mind was on someone else too—Jade. Was she safe? Did she have a weapon? Had Markus already found her?

But he had chosen to stay away from her. His own decision. And now, he regretted it.

Getting Ellie to safety was Joel's first priority. They moved quickly toward the center of the settlement. Screams and explosions shattered the usual quiet of Cedar Heaven. Every corner held a new threat. Joel kept Ellie behind him, staying alert with every step.

"Stay here," he instructed, pointing to a reinforced barricade. "Don't move. Not until I get back, got it?"

Ellie, for once, didn’t argue. She just nodded. Joel gave her a firm look before turning away and heading into the chaos—searching for Jade.

Joel moved through the tangled streets, trying not to lose his way. Every panicked person rushing past him, every pile of debris, every collapsed barricade only added to his anxiety. How did they miss such a large attack? But there was no time for answers.

He turned a corner and stopped when he saw something on the ground—a torn, bloody, and dirtied shirt that looked like it belonged to Jade. His heart pounded. She was here. Maybe still nearby.

What if Markus had already found her? What if she was with him now? The thought gnawed at him.

Then, a low growl echoed in the distance. Joel focused on the sound. Further down the street, a group of infected moved slowly but menacingly. And behind them, something even worse—a bloater. Joel’s grip tightened around his rifle. If Jade was trapped somewhere near this mess, she didn’t have much of a chance.

He moved carefully through the shadows, avoiding the infected. As he rounded another corner, he saw her—Jade, fighting off a group of infected. She held her pistol steady, taking careful shots and landing each one with deadly precision. Joel hesitated for a moment. She was fearless. Determined.

But the numbers were against her, and her ammunition was running low. Just as an infected crept up behind her, Joel raised his rifle and fired a single shot, dropping the creature instantly.

Jade flinched at the unexpected help but quickly recovered.

"Joel?" she called out, her voice a mix of shock and frustration.

"I came for you," Joel said, his voice gruff but sincere.

Jade hesitated for a second, then raised her gun again. "Alright, hero. Then let's fight."

Side by side, in the pouring rain and the darkness, they took down the infected one by one. Even in their silence, there was so much left unsaid, but for now, all that mattered was survival.

Rain poured from the sky, turning the ground beneath them into slippery mud. Joel’s rifle was wet, but his focus remained sharp. Ahead, silhouettes moved in the darkness—more infected. The guttural growls and eerie clicking sounds crept closer.

Joel glanced at Jade. She was quiet, focused. Her pistol was ready, her stance steady. He had noticed her agility back when she first arrived at Cedar Heaven, during that chaotic car chase. But now, fighting side by side, seeing her resilience firsthand—it gave him an unexpected sense of reassurance.

"Three on our left," Jade whispered. Joel nodded.

"Take that side. I’ll cover your back," he replied firmly.

Jade moved swiftly, aiming at the targets on the left while Joel turned to the right. His first shot hit a runner dead center in the forehead, but more were coming.

A sharp clicking noise made Joel instinctively duck. A Clicker was charging straight for him. Its grotesque fungal growth twisted its face into an inhuman shape, its movements erratic and terrifying.

"Damn it," Joel muttered, raising his pistol and firing twice. The creature shrieked before collapsing.

Jade’s voice rang out. "Joel, behind you!"

Joel turned just in time to see a Stalker creeping up on him. But Jade was faster. She lunged, plunging her knife into the infected’s throat. It gurgled, then dropped to the ground.

"You could be a little more careful, old man," Jade said with a smirk.

Joel tried to mask his surprise. "You enjoying this?"

"A little," Jade admitted, though her tone was serious.

Joel pressed his back against a wall, quickly assessing the situation. More infected were on their way, following the sounds of gunfire. Clickers and Stalkers, plus a runner—fast but weaker.

Joel formulated a plan in his head. They were outnumbered. But they still had a fighting chance.

"There's a generator up ahead. If we make some noise, we can draw their attention there," Joel said.

"Then what?" Jade asked.

"We'll take them down one by one. I'll handle the heavy work, you take care of the fast ones."

Jade nodded. "Alright. But don’t slow me down."

Joel smirked slightly at her response. For a moment, he thought back to the first time they fought together. Until they reached Cedar Heaven, he had witnessed how fast and strategic Jade could be in the infected-filled streets. Now, being a team again gave Joel an unexpected surge of energy. Somehow, it made them stronger.

They moved according to their plan. Joel threw a few rocks at the generator to draw attention. The infected gathered around the engine, falling into their trap one by one. Joel swung his spiked baseball bat at a Runner, sending it crashing to the ground. Then, he quickly stabbed a Clicker approaching from behind.

Jade, using her speed and agility, drove her knife into another Runner's throat. Joel glanced at her for a moment, observing the precision and determination in her movements. As she moved on to her next target, he found himself unable to look away. Her fluid movements proved, once again, just how strong she had to be to survive.

When a Clicker lunged at Jade from behind, Joel intervened swiftly. He aimed his rifle at the creature's head and took it down with a single shot.

"Thanks," Jade said without turning around.

"We watch each other's backs, don’t we?" Joel replied.

Jade took down a Stalker and turned, locking eyes with him. In her gaze, Joel saw a deep resolve, but also pain. The days they had spent trying to stay away from each other now felt meaningless in the chaos of this fight. Seeing her courage and strength, Joel was reminded once more why he found her so compelling.

By the end of the battle, they were both out of breath. Joel slung his rifle over his shoulder and looked at Jade. Her face was covered in sweat and blood, but her eyes still burned with determination.

"You alright?" Joel asked, his voice slightly unsteady.

"I’m alive, so yeah," Jade replied with a small smile.

A brief silence fell between them. They stood there, staring at each other as the world around them quieted.

After a while, they made their way to one of the shelters. They were drenched from the rain. Announcements over the base's speakers confirmed that the southern wing was back under control. Whoever had caused this recklessness would be found and punished.

The dim light of the shelter blended with the cold stone walls, amplifying the silence that echoed within. Jade sat on a wooden chair in the corner, absentmindedly playing with the knife in her hands. Her fingers moved with practiced ease, using the small task to mask the storm inside her. Her gaze occasionally flicked to Joel, but she quickly looked away each time.

Joel sat at an old metal table across from her, cleaning his weapon. His movements were mechanical, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

It was as if an invisible tension had wrapped around the room. They both felt it, yet neither dared to be the first to cut through it.

Joel sighed, rubbing the rifle’s barrel with a cloth. His hands moved on instinct, but his thoughts were focused on Jade. She acted like she wasn’t aware of it, but Joel felt her every movement.

"You're being reckless," he finally said, his voice softer but still uncertain. "If you keep working alone like this, one day I won’t be able to find you."

Jade took a deep breath and turned to him. *"The real danger isn’t the infected, Joel. The real danger is people." Her eyes glistened. "Do you even realize what people do to each other? Even Markus..." she trailed off.

Joel sensed something hidden in her words. "Markus? What did he do to you?" His voice hardened instantly.

Jade shook her head. "Nothing. It’s just... I don’t trust people. That’s why I work alone when I’m assigned a mission. And..." She hesitated, breaking eye contact. "That’s why I couldn’t trust you either."

Joel felt his anger falter. He slowly stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "You couldn’t trust me?" he murmured. "Jade... I was only trying to protect you."

Jade met his gaze again, her expression a mix of anger and sorrow. "You left me alone... You never really cared about me... Not even as a friend... I’m just trying to protect myself, that’s all."

Joel remained silent for a few moments. This was the most honest conversation they had ever had. He could see both fragility and strength in her face. Seeing her like this broke something inside him.

"Whenever you need me, I’ll be there, Jade... I left Ellie behind to come to you. If something happens to you... Losing you would be like losing everything."

Jade smiled, but to Joel, it still carried so much pain. Being this close to her, realizing just how deep their emotions ran, made everything even harder. Her fears and trust issues didn’t make her weak—they made her human.

"Don’t forget this, Joel. Sometimes we have to be close to each other. But that closeness should make us stronger, not amplify our fears," she said, her voice still trembling.

Joel nodded. They sat in silence for a while, the weight of unspoken words thick between them. Jade's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, yet she still found strength.

She quietly gathered her things. Joel, leaning against the wall, watched her.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his voice as stern as ever, but underneath it lay a hint of worry.

Jade avoided Joel’s gaze as she noticed the tone in his voice. “I need to check in with Markus. I haven’t returned in a while, he must be worried.”

The thought of that man constantly watching Jade, always finding a reason to be near her, drove Joel insane. Just the idea of Markus wondering whether she had returned to the shelter or not was enough to make his blood boil. And now, seeing Jade about to walk away, a volcano of jealousy and anger threatened to erupt inside him.

“He must be worried, huh?” Joel said sarcastically, pressing his lips into a tight line.

Jade turned to look at him. “Yes, he must be. We all have responsibilities here, Joel. Is that a problem?”

Joel took a few steps toward her. “A problem? You mean that guy following you around all the time? Saying he’s worried about you? You think that’s normal?” His voice was low, but there was an unmistakable edge of anger in it. “Why don’t you stay away from Markus? Don’t you see how he looks at you? Are you that blind?”

Jade let out a tired breath, her expression weary. “I’m not blind, Joel! I see everything. But you’ve been distant, pushing me away, and I didn’t know what else to do! You keep shutting me out, and Markus… at least he sees me.”

The words hit Joel like a dagger to the chest. “Sees you, huh? What does he see? How to manipulate you? How to get closer to you?” His anger was rising. “Do you really think his intentions are pure?”

Jade cut in sharply. “He can’t manipulate me, Joel. I know what he wants, and I know what he’s thinking. And honestly, you have no right to judge me.”

Joel ran a hand through his hair, trying to rein in his frustration. “I’m not judging you. I’m trying to protect you, Jade! But it’s like you’re purposely running toward him just to spite me. Why? Are you trying to punish me?”

Jade froze for a second, her gaze locking onto his. “That’s not true. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of you not loving me. I wanted to forget you. Because I heard it from your own mouth, Joel. You don’t love me. Your anger pushed us to this point. And yes, maybe Markus was part of it, but it wasn’t just about him.”

Joel stood still, speechless. “You’re punishing yourself just to stop loving me? Jade, that man is dangerous. How can you not see that?”

Jade furrowed her brows, shaking her head. “Joel… I *am* afraid of Markus, okay? His attention makes me uncomfortable. But if I didn’t feel so alone, maybe I wouldn’t do things like this. You’ve always been a wall. I’ve tried to reach you, but you keep pushing me away.”

Joel’s anger wavered for a moment. He could see both rage and pain in her eyes. “You’re scared…” he repeated, his voice softer now, thoughtful. “Then stay away from him! Jade, if he ever hurts you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

Jade let out a deep breath, lowering her eyes. “I feel alone, Joel. You think you’re protecting me, but you’re breaking me, every single day. Every moment I think you don’t love me, *that* is what hurts. And the person hurting me the most… is you. Markus… at least he listens to me. At least I can pretend to find some kind of solace.”

Joel felt something shift inside him. His hands clenched into fists, but this time, his anger wasn’t directed at her—it was at himself. “Jade, I’d protect you from everything. If it comes down to it, we’ll leave this damn place. But Markus? I can’t stand him. I won’t stand him."

Jade felt the weight of his words, for the first time sensing his sincerity. But she also knew how conflicted he was. She lowered her head slightly, speaking in a quiet voice. “Joel, trust me. Nothing ever happened between Markus and me. And I don’t feel anything for him. But you have to stop leaving me like this.”

Joel stayed silent for a long moment. Finally, he exhaled, trying to steady himself. “I won’t leave you, Jade. I’ll protect you. But if Markus ever lays a hand on you… this place will burn.”

The tension in the shelter was thick, pressing in on them like an invisible force. And yet, deep down, they both knew that this confrontation had brought them closer.

“The lie you told… about not loving me. It *was* a lie, wasn’t it?” Jade’s voice was soft, but firm. “You’re jealous of Markus because you love me. Desperately.”

Joel looked at her, his emotions swirling in his eyes. “Yes… but that’s not the point, Jade. I don’t deserve you.”

A bitter smile formed on Jade’s lips. She could see how much he loved her, but she could also see how hard he was trying to push her away. “That’s not your decision to make, Joel.”

Joel tried to take a step back, but Jade had already closed the distance between them. Her fingertips brushed against his hand—such a simple touch, yet it paralyzed him. His hands suddenly felt heavier, his heartbeat louder, as if something was holding him in place.

“Don’t,” Joel murmured, his voice rough, but fragile.

Jade tilted her head slightly, searching his eyes. “Why, Joel? Do you *really* love me, or do you just see me as someone you need to protect?”

A low sound rumbled in Joel’s throat, but it wasn’t an answer—just hesitation. Jade took another step forward. Now, their breaths mingled in the space between them.

Jade slowly lifted her hands and gently cupped Joel’s face. The warmth of her touch both calmed him and set him on edge. He closed his eyes, feeling her fingertips trace his skin. And yet, all he could think was how wrong this was.

"Jade..." he whispered, his voice trembling.

Without hesitation, Jade slowly reached for Joel. When her lips touched his, time seemed to stop. That kiss stirred a storm inside Joel and, for a brief moment, made him forget all his burdens. But Joel pulled away.

"This isn't right," he said, his breath unsteady. "You're young, Jade. I... I don't want to drag you into this."

But Jade didn't step back. She placed her hands on Joel's shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. "Right or wrong, let me decide that. You always try to make choices for me, but Joel, I'm telling you what I want. I want you."

Joel's breath hitched. Seeing the determination in her eyes, he felt his walls begin to crumble. Yet, he still tried to resist. "Jade, if you knew my past, the things I've done... you'd understand why I'm afraid of hurting you."

Jade cut him off. "I've known enough people to recognize who would harm me, Joel. What hurts me is you running away from me."

Her words shook Joel more than he expected. Jade pressed her lips against his again, this time with more confidence, more passion. At first, Joel resisted, but in the end, he surrendered completely. His hands instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.

That moment was like an explosion for both of them—a release of years of built-up emotions, fears, and longing. Despite all his doubts, Joel felt the reality of the moment. And Jade, in his arms, felt safe and whole.

When the kiss ended, both were breathless. Joel leaned his forehead against Jade’s. "What... what are we doing?" he whispered, his voice almost desperate.

Jade smiled softly. "We're doing the right thing, Joel."

As Joel tried to process her words, the turmoil inside him slowly settled into a quiet acceptance. The trust and love in Jade’s eyes brought him peace for the first time.

This time, her kiss was deeper, more intense. Joel resisted for a moment longer, but then he let everything go. His hands gripped her waist as he pulled her in. Their kiss was a collision of pent-up emotions—fear, pain, and desire merging into one.

Joel's breath trailed down to Jade’s neck as she clung to his shoulders. Time felt like it had stopped. The dim lights of the shelter cast soft shadows over their faces. As Joel let himself believe in this moment, he realized his walls had completely crumbled.

“No one can touch you but me,” Joel said, innocent as a child afraid of losing, “this is not something I can handle.”

Joel took off the girl’s wet jacket with a nasty movement and threw it in a corner. Her gray T-shirt was soaked from the pouring rain and stuck to her body. The cold hardened her nipples, exposing itself to Joel’s eyes through the cloth that hugged her body. Joel cupped her breasts through the cloth and began to caress the swelling lumps with his thumb. The movement that had echoed in Jade’s groin and sent butterflies flying through her belly now made her feel even more passionate as she reached for his lips. Her moist tongue met his between his lips, soothing the old wolf’s wounds. A white sheet was spread over the marks etched into his soul.

While they continued kissing, Jade's hand didn't stop either. She pushed Joel's hands on her breasts, allowing him to free his arms, and just like he did, she started to take off Joel's jacket. Everything was happening very fast. She had to. The fear of being caught was added to the intensity of their suppressed feelings for each other. A group of guards could raid them in the shelter while looking for people who were dead or bitten and at risk of infection. Normally, this shouldn't have been a big problem. One of the guards would smile at such a sight, curse with a half-mocking, half-envious expression on his face, and wait for them to leave the shelter with the same expression. However, Jade was the apple of their leader's eye and had a character that would turn dark for the sake of their goals. If they were very lucky, they could sacrifice them to the infected group.

But their repressed sexual feelings were very strong in turning the fear into fantasy in their minds. Joel Miller tangled his fingers in Jade's hair, pressing her closer to him, while his other hand went to his belt, trying to unbuckle it. Jade was luckier in this regard. Her fingers undid the button and pulled down his pants by holding them by the edges. Since the cut of the pants was designed to be wide, they slid on the smooth surface of the girl's thin legs and met the ground. She was much more comfortable now. She had cleaned herself of her clothes, which were a mixture of blood, rain and sweat, and wrapped her arms tightly around Joel's neck. She was moaning as if she were enjoying a pleasure she had forgotten the taste of.

Joel finally managed to get rid of his pants despite the girl's active nature. He pulled his lips away from hers and ended the passionate French kiss. He bent his knees slightly and got down to her level, reaching her upper thighs. He wrapped her legs around him and lifted her up. Now the girl was in his lap, her womanhood pressing against his manhood. Jade took Joel's face between her hands as they looked passionately into his eyes. Just as her lips were about to part to say the words, Joel didn't let her. "I was scared to death of losing you, Jade. But I'd rather die than see you with someone else," he said. This time their kiss was much harder and more uncontrolled. It was an expression of all the accumulated emotions, suppressed pleasures. Joel wasn't just kissing, he was telling stories about everything that had happened from the time they met until that night and the moments he couldn't explain inside; tongue strokes symbolized regret, small bites symbolized fear, lip movements symbolized loss... Everything fit into that kiss.

At a moment when the fire between the two seemed to disrupt the physical balance between them, Joel wrapped his arms tighter around Jade's body and Jade suddenly groaned when her back hit the wall; she lost her breath between the coldness of the wall and the man's warmth.

"You made me dependent on you, I am ready to be your prisoner," Joel said, his voice cracking and determined. If his daughter were alive, she would be older than Jade, but he wanted to be destroyed in the love of a young woman even younger than his daughter.

There was not the slightest hesitation in Jade's gaze in the face of these words; she was ready to leave herself to Joel with all the weight of that moment.

He waited for a moment, as if time had stopped. Then he brought his lips down on hers again like a hurricane. His hands were gripping her hips tightly, caressing them. He was protecting her by holding her between him and the wall.

Jade's hands first grabbed onto his shoulders with excitement, then slowly slid down to his neck. Their kisses softened for a moment, giving way to a deeper, more sensual passion. He bounced the girl in his arms and held her tighter, pressing his chest against hers more, as if he wanted to hide her from the world. While the girl's back was against the wall, Joel's lips slid down to her neck. The tension between them grew stronger with each breath they exchanged. The shiver Jade felt on her skin spread from her spine to her entire body. The girl whispered his name, her voice trembling like an oath. This made Joel more eager. His cock began to stir, and as he got erect, the pressure he was exerting on her womanhood increased. There was only a piece of cloth between his vagina and his penis. As their bodies continued their movements in sync, the tip of his cock brushed against her clit, Jade's eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as she pulled away from Joel's lips. She was breathing shallowly and moaning, her teeth clenched tightly.

Joel, meanwhile, had become a little more irritable as a manifestation of his fears. As their sexuality grew more sensitive, the dreams of Markus and Jade echoing in Joel's mind were the only source of passion in his aroused body.

When Jade suddenly turned her head to the right with the pleasure she was experiencing, Joel's lips slid to Jade's jawbone. He kissed her chin hard, rubbing it around it, and as his jealousy darkened his heart, he made Jade feel his teeth as if he wanted to hurt her and make her pay. When he finally stopped at her ear, he growled. "As long as the fucker stayed close to you, I wanted to kill him! To shot between his eyebrows without mercy... Like before." As if his jealousy was feeding his strength, he moved his hand to the girl's panties. In the meantime, Jade, whose leg was free, wrapped her legs tighter around the man's waist and hooked her feet together. As Joel pulled the tight panties aside harshly, the sound of the fabric tearing filled his ears. When Joel met her vulva with his fingers, he was surprised by how wet she was. How could he better express that Jade was so ready for him, that he was deprived of his skin? His fingertips were sliding easily on her wet inner lips. So wet and sticky. He stroked at about the same pace, speeding up the movement of his fingertips as he reached her clitoris, creating a vibrator effect. The hundreds of capillaries inside her clitoris were doubling their sensitivity as she felt Joel's breath on her ear and neck. Her breath was trembling with pleasure, her moans continuing to harden Joel's cock, stimulating the entrance to her vagina under the fabric.

Joel asked, almost in a whisper. "Like you said," he said, imitating her nickname for him, "do you like it when the old wolf touches your pussy like that, Jade, huh?" The warmth released from between his lips tickled her skin as he moaned into her ear. "Smooth and puffy."

While caressing with one hand, he continued to apply pressure to her vagina from under his boxers and stimulate the entrance of her vagina as if he was going to enter. "If I see you smile at him one more time, I won't be able to control myself after tonight," he clenched his teeth and his voice trembled with ambition, "I swear to you Jade. Because there is no one who can love you as much as I do, no one else can understand you, no one else can see you the way I do." Finally, he tightly clasped his middle and index fingers together and slid inside her entrance. Jade's moans echoed loudly off the walls as he moved his fingers rapidly inside her. She was holding Joel's muscular arms so tightly that her nails nearly dug into his flesh and made it bleed. "FUCK... JOEL!"

Joel pretended not to notice her and continued, "No one can satisfy you like this old wolf can, do you understand?"

Jade's breathing pattern was completely disrupted, and she was trying to answer Joel with moans squeezed between her trembling breathing. "Yes Joel, I belong only to you. My soul and body...only you...you can touch me."

Joel buried his head in her neck and breathed in the wonderful scent of her skin, now stripped of the odor of sweat. And when he lifted his head again, there was a note of triumph in his voice and expression. "Oh, there's my sweet girl. There's my baby girl."

Joel Miller’s cock was no different than Jade’s vagina. The colorless, sticky precum that leaked from the tip had seeped through the fabric of his gray boxers, darkening the light gray tone. The veins on his penis had grown larger and larger, swollen enough that it was visibly twitching under the skin. The cum pooling in his balls was too much to fit through the fabric. His tip was flushed with the tingle of the moment it met her vagina. Joel could not bear it any longer. He asked breathlessly, “Can you feel my cock, Jade, huh? Can you feel how hungry it is for you, how it yearns to enter your burning cunt, oh Jade?”

"Yes, Joel, I want him inside me so bad."

Joel put his lips to her ear and whispered. It was as if he was trying to drive her crazy. "Do you want daddy inside you, huh? Do you want me to fuck you like no one else, not even that son of a bitch Markus, could?"

"Yes Joel," she moaned as Joel prodded her with his fingers inside her.

"No, forget Joel! Say daddy, say it! Do you want me to fuck you so hard?"

"Fuck... Oh, yes daddy, I want you to fuck me. I beg you daddy... I want your old cock inside me."

Joel growled as he pulled his boxers down to his balls with a greedy tone. "I'm gonna show you what that old cock will do to you now, my little whore," Joel said. "No one else turns you on like me."

Finally Joel took his penis in his hand, held it tightly, and inserted the tip into Jade's vagina and pushed it in quickly. Its squeaky voice mixed with her moans and trembling breaths. Jade's body shook, Joel tightened his leg and hip muscles. But they soon got used to it. Joel moved in and out of the girl's warm vagina comfortably. He felt how his big cock was wrapped between the rough vaginal walls while inside the girl's hole. Jade had never encountered a penis with such a perfect anatomy before. He was applying equal pressure to the sensitive points of her vagina, allowing her to experience equal depths of pleasure. Her pupils rolled in their sockets, her moans quickened. As Joel increased his speed, Jade's hands were released from Joel's arms and hung down and to the sides. Her feet were swinging at least a foot off the ground, parallel to Joel's hard movements. Jade had completely surrendered herself to the strong arms of pleasure.

Joel tilted his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the pleasure he was getting from Jade's vagina. "Oh, yes! You're such an insatiable, greedy whore, Jade," Joel moaned.

As Joel continued to thrust his penis into Jade, a muffled, runny sound was coming out of her insides, which were bathed in both of their pre-cum. As his speed increased, the man placed his hands under the girl's hips and caressed her tightly, bouncing her on his lap a few times to correct their position that was about to deteriorate. Although this movement caused Jade to lose her balance due to the proximity to the wall, she immediately raised her arms and hugged her older man tightly. The hard blows were driving Jade crazy and her screams were coming out. Fearless, brave, it didn't matter that her voice was spilling out into the streets. The idea of being caught by Markus' men while Joel Miller was fucking her only cared enough to increase her lust. She trusted this man so much, she was so sure of what he could do, this confidence gave her courage.

Joel looked desperate now, his voice trembling with a raspy voice. “You’re not just my lover, you’re my disease, Jade,” he said. “I’m obsessively in love with you.” He kept thrusting. It was as if every word he said was a spur to his hormones that filled the room. He pulled the girl’s hair hard. Her anatomy became apparent under the tightening skin of her neck. The green and blue tones of the veins wrapping around the blood flowing under the skin, her throat, her collarbone… And Joel began to bite mercilessly into her neck. The teeth marks were left on the skin. The girl’s mixed moans of pain and pleasure gave Joel a sexual power. Without taking his lips off her neck, he spoke again. “If anyone else sees you the way I see you, I will destroy those eyes, Jade. Because those eyes should never even dream of having you!”

Joel's penis was throbbing. It seemed like he couldn't take it anymore. His groin began to ache. Without letting the girl off his lap and without getting out of her, he quickly approached the metal table in the corner of the shelter. In the meantime, Jade was begging Joel with the right timing to make her cum. That was all she had in mind. When Joel laid her down hard, face down on the metal table, the cold surface of the metal made her shiver.

"Don't worry, horny girl. Daddy's going to pour his hot, sticky cum inside you in a minute," Joel said breathlessly, his voice slightly raspy. He picked up the pace. He thrust harder. His groin was slapping her ass, her tight hips shaking and shaking. His balls were slapping her clit, and Joel was driving himself wild with pleasure, pushing himself to use his power over her. He tangled his hands in Jade's hair and pressed her face into the hard surface of the table.

Meanwhile, Jade moaned nervously. "Are you going to cum inside me, Joel?"

Joel replied with a devilish grin, "Yes, sweet baby, daddy's gonna get you pregnant."

Jade was so caught up in the pleasure of the moment that she could only say, "No." She couldn't resist Joel, on the contrary, she was diving deeper into the well of lust. But Joel got more furious at her negative response and growled. "Yes, baby, I'm going to get you pregnant." FUCK!" She was so close now... Both of them. Joel put his hands on her shoulders, holding her tightly, and leaned down, putting his weight on her. "I wonder what his face will look like when I tell Markus that your pussy belongs only to me," he said in a tone where hatred and pleasure were friends. "FUCK... Oh, Jade, your beautiful pussy belongs only to your daddy." he was out of breath. He held it and suddenly released it as he inflated his chest with air, reaching the peaks of pleasure. The girl was no different. The floor of the table was shaking from her moans. Joel was almost ready to come. He started slapping the girl's ass cheeks. When he landed the first slap on her flesh, her muscles tensed. "You're a very special girl," he said then and slapped her other cheek again. Jade tensed her muscles again, but the pain and pleasure were buzzing in her ears.

Jade felt warm inside her. The sticky, warm fluid that wouldn’t fit inside her vagina and was struggling to come out with a squeaky sound. Her pupils had almost disappeared with pleasure. “Do you hear me,” Joel asked, leaning in close to her ear, “I’m pouring my cum into your womb, baby. Daddy’s gonna get you pregnant.” His moans mixed with hers as he came. He laced his fingers through hers and pinned her hands to the metal table, on either side of her head. Jade’s knuckles ached from the table floor. She came too. Right after Joel, but Joel couldn’t do anything except stamp his feet and bite his lower lip, his movements restricted, and he could do nothing but moan. He was too heavy, and she was crushing beneath him.

When Joel finally pulled out of her, the floor was soaked with her pleasure juices. The wetness on his penis glistened in the light coming from the window. The water running down Jade's legs made her feel cold because of the cold air circulating in the room. While she was resting on the table, Joel sat on the chair next to the table and watched Jade as she tried to control her breathing. He witnessed how she was making her perfect, young and firm body writhe with pleasure and was spiritually satisfied.

[cedarmoonzz]

between the bars •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

followed by: once more to see you and slow like honey

fandom: gravity falls

ship: ford pines x reader

warnings: brief mention of boners, making out, angst

summary:

being engaged to the world’s smartest idiot feels like navigating a storm while he’s engrossed in his portal research. you wonder if there’s anything you can do to help him.

Three months.

Ninety-one sleepless, tormented days. 

That’s how long you’ve watched Ford, once so full of life, become a shell of himself.

Each day seems to blend into the next, weighed down by the crushing demands of his portal. His bright eyes have lost their spark, replaced by a weary, distant look that suggests he is fighting a constant battle with exhaustion. He’s always buried in his research, disappearing into a maze of endless calculations and theories, only coming up to ask for coffee, food, or help with his measurements. Each interaction is a reminder of the distance that has grown between you, making you ache for the vibrant person he is beneath all the work. It allows you to realize something.

Stanford is an incredibly stubborn man.

You count your breaths, letting the full force of Ford’s distance fill you. Once a day, only in the evening, you allow yourself to feel abandoned, lost, and alone—but only here, only in the evening, before Stanford trudges upstairs for his third pot of coffee. Afterwards, you must set these feelings aside, for there is still so much work to be done, so much still at stake.

Stanford lets you handle all the paper calculations and complex math for the portal, trusting you with the intricate details crucial to his project. Yet, despite your role, he keeps you from seeing the fruits of your labor. You are barred from the basement, the place where the results of your hard work come to life. This exclusion only deepens your sense of isolation and frustration, as you toil endlessly without ever truly understanding the impact of your efforts. The distance between what you contribute and what you’re allowed to see only reinforces the feeling of being a cog in a machine, valued for your skills but denied any real connection to the end result.

Beyond the kitchen door, you can hear your lab mates arguing. The last light of day was leaking through the fissures of the window shutters, changing shape as they paced outside, their shadows stretching to where you sit, hidden, not yet prepared to face them. Though you could not make out their words, you could detect the urgency in their voices. You pressed your palms against your eyes and sighed, then rolled up the loose sleeves of Stanford’s (now your) sweater.

With a harsh, abrupt grunt, akin to the percussive crack of a twig beneath a boot, your fiancé wrenched the splintered door open, slamming it shut with a resounding thud. You were jolted from your thoughts, having been lost in your own reverie as the unexpected noise shattered your concentration. As he stood there, his face etched with a mixture of anger and exhaustion, you could see the deep lines of fatigue and frustration carved into his features. He muttered a stream of incoherent curses under his breath, his visible irritation and weariness painting a stark picture of his emotional state.

Softly, you encouraged him. “Ford, what is it?”

He didn’t answer; he only stood, looking at you as if he might scream.

“It’s Fiddleford!” Stanford growled. “He’s speaking nonsense! Trying to propose that only bad can come from the portal we spent months on! Your calculations, my handiwork and experience? All down the drain because McGucket is scared? It’s ridiculous! I should’ve never trusted him. It seems I can trust no one with my work these days!”

His words caught you between places: you stare down at the ring that graced your finger, the tea kettle whistling, trails of steam emitting behind you, leaving you in between your selves.

“No one?” you repeat, but did not elaborate further. You did not want to be cruel to him, but now that he had insulted you (now, of all times, when you were working so hard to understand him), it was difficult to resist lashing out at him.

Ford paused, words caught between his teeth as you stood in silence. “[Y/n]… my love.” Regret crept into his voice, daring to color his words with a warmth you were sure was genuine—but rather than comfort, it only wounded you. “Of course I can trust you. This portal… It wouldn’t be possible without your work.”

It broke you—or broke what feeble grip you had on yourself, the reserves of strength you used to keep your grief and despair in check all spent.

“My work,” you spat out, almost hissing the words through clenched teeth. You threw the kettle off the stove and pivoted to confront him, closing the distance between you with two broad, angry strides. Pointing a finger at him, you seethed, “Is that all the trust you have? Just your precious portal? Ford, when was the last time you actually talked to me? I can't deal with this anymore! I followed you all the way to Gravity Falls, to the middle of nowhere, and you barely let me see the full scope of my work. Always holed up in the basement.”

Your palm remains red from the heat of the kettle’s handle, but that does not burn as bad as the heat of your fiancé’s abandonment. And still, stupidly, in spite of it all, you wanted to trust Ford. To believe that there was a reason, an explanation for all the half-truths and deceptions. You want to protect him. You want your answers. You want to see him: not a passing nod of acknowledgment, or a pat on the back as you walk past him, or a fragment of him in a dream, but his skin in the flesh, and you loathe yourself for how badly you want it… but you turn that loathing outward, funneling it through the anger, and set the air around you crackling with fury.

As you glared at him, a profound sense of abandonment and worthlessness enveloped you like a shroud. It felt as though you had been reduced to nothing more than a glorified calculator in Ford’s eyes—a mere instrument, a cog in the vast machinery of his ambitions, used and discarded with no regard for your own significance. The weight of your perceived insignificance bore down on you, each moment in his shadow a reminder of how fleeting and unimportant your role had become. The very essence of your being seemed to diminish with every unacknowledged contribution, leaving you to wrestle with the crushing realization that your efforts and sacrifices had been eclipsed by his relentless pursuit, barely noted and even less appreciated.

Stanford’s eyes met yours, narrowing ever so slightly as he took in the gravity of the moment. He measured the tension between you, a flicker of regret crossing his features as he struggled to comprehend the full extent of your pain. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken remorse, before he finally cleared his throat, his voice betraying a hint of sorrow for the hurt he had caused and the realization of how far he had let things go.

“I'm sorry, [Y/n].” Stanford reached out to hold your waist—and did you imagine it, or did you lean into that touch, pressing your body to the warmth of his open palms? You swallowed. Softly, he asked you, “Do you want me to go?”

You shook your head, more as an excuse to look away from him than anything—now that you had reprimanded him, you realized just how close he was, and your hair fell in front of your eyes, offering you a moment of reprieve. It was difficult having him so near; when your rage subsided, you were left with a profound sense of abandonment and a wounded heart. In a voice tinged with desperation and hurt, you asked, “Why can’t you just let me help you, Ford?”

As the words left your lips, you found yourself instinctively moving closer, your breath mingling with his. The proximity heightened the tension between you, the unspoken emotions crackling in the air. Your lips nearly brushed his as you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice blending with an undeniable, charged intimacy.

“[Y/n],” he begs, but he keeps his hands around your waist. “It’s dangerous…” But even as he speaks, his head is falling towards yours, his mouth ajar and questing, breath ragged.

You lift your hand from the collar of Stanford’s lab coat to hold his face, running your thumb tenderly over the stubble that graced his sharp jawline.

“I’m just as capable as Fiddleford,” you whisper, only inches between you now, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck as you speak the words. “Let me prove myself to you.”

Ford shudders. When his eyes meet yours again, they read something within them—perhaps some hidden fate or doom—and then, he remains. He holds you in his eyes like he is weighing you, or trying to carry a piece of you away with him. With a weary sigh, he lifts his hands to frame your face instead, tracing your cheek with his thumb. He leans forward—you dare not breathe—and presses his lips to your brow, just below the line of your hair. You can feel the soft warmth of his breath against the top of your head. Your eyes sting with tears; you will your body not to shake.

“I know you’re incredibly intelligent, but what Fiddleford saw in that portal… it ruined him. I don’t want the same fate for you.” He pleads, raising a hand of his own as if to pry yours from his face, but it trembles instead, then covers yours, holding the warmth of your palm to his cheek. “It is not that simple.”

“It can be,” you insist, as you lower your other hand to rest above his frantic, pounding heart. “It is.”

The space between the two of you is shrinking before you know whether you or Ford had moved first. Then your palm was carding through the tangled brown hair at the back of his head, drawing him closer as you kiss. When your mouths first met, Ford flinched, as though he might retreat… but he parted his lips for you, and your knees weaken at the taste of his tongue. You clutched his lab coat; his hands danced across your waist to the small of your back and held you against him. His heat rose against you; you could feel him through his slacks, insistent against your thigh—

“I’m sorry,” Stanford whispers, his lips brushing against yours before he pulls away. He turns abruptly and exits the room. Without another word, he heads straight for the basement, leaving you standing there, your heart aching with the weight of unsaid confessions and unfulfilled desires. The intensity of the moment lingers in the air, a palpable reminder of the emotional distance that remains between you.

The way he looked at you was too much; so much unspoken between the two of you, so much you wish to tell him, confess to him: how he always makes you feel safe. That this whole research project, the calculations and all, had only ever been bearable because he had let you be by his side. That his presence is more valuable to you than anything; that you had treasured every moment spent with him. That you’re worried for him.

That you felt like he was in danger, and you were running out of time.