#rust shop front

[upthespiralstaircase]

CO FF EE by J Radcliff Via Flickr: Nikon F3, Micro-Nikkor 55/28, Kodak Gold 200.

[lnfours]

august | l.n

summary: you were never mine ; aka the one where the summer fling comes crashing down, but after an unexpected face in the media pen, lando is left questioning why he ever left.

warnings: pretend lando got a later start in formula one, summer flings, slight brothers best friend!lando, reader ends up working in the industry, kinda second chance romance vibes, fluff, hints of angst if you squint, and mentions of sexual content. i had to cut this short because it was getting super long, so if you want a part two to this make sure to let me know :) anyways, happy august, my loves 🤍 may your air be salty and the rust be on your doors.

listen | masterlist

summer: your favorite time of the year. where you’d spend your days outside, salt heavy in the air and the cool ocean breeze whisking away all your problems. your few months of peace where nothing else in the world mattered more than sitting on the beach by the ocean during the day and sitting by the cozy bonfire after the sun had finally set.

peaceful, until you had met him.

getting swept off your feet by the boy your brother had befriended was the last thing on your mind. but nonetheless, you had. his charming smile with cute dimples had you head over heels. moles charting his skin like constellations making him so much prettier. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t breathtaking, laying on the lounge chair with his curls sitting almost perfectly against his forehead. so unaware at how your eyes danced over his figure behind your sunglasses.

a perfect example of beautiful chaos.

him and his siblings had gotten close to you and your brother, thankful for there to be people their age in the small costal town to befriend. you mostly kept to yourself and his sisters in efforts to push the crush you had quickly developed down. not wanting to start something that could never be finished. not wanting to put your heart on the line just for something to yank him from your grasps.

but after a week or so, you had caved in. getting to know him better every day. he had told you about his life back home, how he was a racer. wanting to make it to formula one, race amongst legends. you had told him about your studies in university, wanting to pursue journalism and things of that nature.

he listened with interest. being the only person who sounded interested in you talking about it, not like the others who had given quick responses when you had told them before. a change that brought a smile to your face and warmed your heart because he actually cared.

he had you opening up to him like a book, wanting nothing more than to understand the beautiful soul that stood in front of him. shared laughs and talks in the kitchen of your family’s vacation home echoing off the walls. sharing your deepest secrets, sharing stories about your youth that normally, you’d cringe about, but he found adorable.

and the two of you got closer, a bond forming between you. lingering glances and touches sending sparks through your bodies. and talks in the kitchen turned into conversations by the fire pit on nights where it’d just be the two of you. weeks of learning about each other. the weeks passed by quickly, and after the first month out of three he had known you like the back of his hand. and you had known everything there was to know about lando norris.

after a couple more weeks of subtle flirting and lingering glances, he had finally grown the courage to ask you what had been prodding at him since the moment he met you.

“can i take you out sometime?”

and like that, all your previous statements about not getting too attached, not wanting something for the sake of it being yanked away, was out the window. you met his green eyes, sparkling in the glow of the bonfire in front of you, a smile on your face as you spoke.

“sure.”

he pulled out all the stops. making reservations for the fancy restaurant downtown and bringing you flowers that had caught his eye in the shop window on the way back from his morning jog. a gesture that made you smile ear to ear and your heart beat quicken. a gesture that made you feel truly loved.

the first date turned into many more. wether it was getting dinner or ice cream in town, or heading towards the beach at sundown to watch the waves crash against the shore. the weeks carried on and you had dinner with his family, all of them ecstatic that he had found someone like you who loved their son the way they did.

you still remembered the day he had written against your skin. your stomach flat against the towel on the sand, back facing the sun that was slowly being swallowed by the ocean as the moon threatened to shine. he was propped up on his elbow, tracing shapes into your skin.

he drew with his fingers and you laughed softly, humming, “hmm, a star?”

he nodded, voice soft as he spoke again, “okay, i have one more. they’re words this time. ready?”

you hummed in approval, his index finger drawing a straight line against your spine.

i.

“i,” you said.

he nodded, writing out the next word.

love.

you furrowed your eyebrows as he drew the ‘e’, “love?”

“yeah,” he said, “last word, put them together.”

your heart squeezed against your chest as he wrote out the final word.

you.

you sat up, meeting his eyes, “you?”

he nodded again, smiling as he tucked the lose strand of hair away from your face.

“i love you.” it sounded heavenly coming from his lips.

you blinked at him, a smile finding its way to your lips, “i love you, too.”

you had pulled him closer by his neck, pressing your lips to his. his hand cupping your cheek, the two of you breaking away when the smiles had taken over your face, too wide to continue the kiss.

“c’mon,” you smiled, getting up from the towel. he followed your lead with a questioning look as you grabbed your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as the other hand grabbed your sandals. taking off towards the private entrance to the beach the lovely vacation home had come with.

“where’re you going?” he laughed, following you anyway. chasing after you with the towel in his hand.

“come find out!”

and he did, following you back up to the house. once he caught up, you were inside and up the stairs. you shut the door behind him, pulling him closer to you as your back pressed against the white wooden door.

“what’re you up to?” he smirked, letting your hands snake around his neck as his found their home on your hips.

“well, no one’s gonna be back for another couple hours,” you trailed on. he smiled, shaking his head.

“absolute minx.”

you smiled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his. he had immediately taken control, his hands moving to the back of your thighs before you understood that he wanted you to jump. he caught you with ease, never letting his lips leave yours as your legs wrapped around his torso, walking back towards your bed before he laid you down carefully.

you smiled as he climbed over you, leaving kisses against the exposed skin of your tummy in his path before his face met yours again, nose brushing against yours, “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

your hands roamed the skin of his back as his squeezed your hips before he pulled away, breathless.

“you’re sure?” he asked softly, “i don’t want this to be something you regret.”

you nodded, reaching behind you and pulling at the ties of your bikini top, tossing it to the side. he watched you with love filled eyes, mouth agape as your head hit the pillows again. a hand coming to rest against his cheek.

“i’m sure,” you smiled, “i love you, lando.”

and after that, you’d often find yourself twisted in your bedsheets with him. your head against his bare chest as your nails drew shapes into his skin. his lips leaving soft kisses to your hairline.

after one specific night, you had fallen asleep against him when he got the call. softly moving you to your side of the bed before walking towards the connected bathroom. the call he had been desperately waiting for.

it was finally his moment. he was making it big.

“can you be here monday?”

he glanced down at the date on his phone. it was two days from now. he’d never make it unless he left now.

he glanced back into the bedroom where your sleeping figure laid, head resting against the pillow as you slept peacefully. he swallowed, immediately feeling guilty. he should wake you up.

“lando?”

“hmm?” he quickly snapped back to the phone call, “sorry, uhm, you said monday?”

“yeah, just to sign some things. do some press, show you around, that sort of thing.”

he took a deep breath, “okay, yeah. sure, sounds good. i’ll see you monday.”

“see you monday,” zak brown’s voice was warm on the other end, “safe travels.”

lando pressed the red button with shaky hands, shoving his phone into the pockets of his sweatpants as he walked back into the bedroom. he grabbed his hoodie off the end of the bed, immediately feeling regret as he looked over your peaceful state. how you were unaware that he was about to leave and never come back.

and with a gentle kiss to your forehead and a mumbled, “i love you,” to your hair, he walked out of the room. walked right out of your life just as quick as he had entered it.

when you woke up the next morning confused that he was no longer with you in your bed. you tried to call, but no answer. you were met with silence. even in your texts you were met with the ‘delivered’ at the bottom of each one. tears flowing down your cheeks as you were left wondering what you had done for him to disappear. to pretend like you were never a thing.

it wasn’t until the fall that you had seen his face again. this time on an instagram post from mclaren. announcing him as a full time driver. he wore a smile, the same floppy curls you had loved, were still messy. hitting against his forehead. he had finally got what he wanted.

and the years went on, you continued to see him pop up every so often. celebrating podium placements and achievements, finally living the life he wanted. the life he had suddenly chose that no longer included you.

he had checked in on you every so often, too. smiling softly when your face popped up on his screen as he’d scroll through your account. you had the life you wanted too, graduating from university and smiling at the camera as you held your diploma. the hard work you had put in finally paying off and meaning something.

he lost track at the amount of messages he had typed out and deleted in your dms. lost track of all the times he had wished he had told you, lost track of the different outcomes he had came up where the ending had you in it. even after convincing himself you were better off out of this lifestyle, he couldn’t help but wish you were.

the knocking on his drivers room had pulled him out of his thoughts, swiping out of your instagram account as the woman smiled sweetly in the doorway.

“they want you for media.”

he nodded, tossing his phone to the couch, tying the papaya race suit around his waist and slipping the mclaren cap back onto his curls, sporting it backwards as he followed the woman down the hallway.

“where’s oscar?”

“he’s already there,” she said sweetly, “hasn’t been there long, though. only a few minutes.”

he nodded, smiling politely at the woman before entering the media pen. she guided him to the opening, smiling before stepping to the side. he took a sip from his water bottle, smiling at the camera man who tapped your shoulder to get your attention. an apologetic smile on your face as you spoke, turning towards the fence, “sorry-“

the same green eyes met yours and the both of you stood in shock for a moment. sure, you had known you were going to bump into him eventually, but on your first day? was the media pen really lacking that many reporters?

“y/n?” he asked, voice soft as your heart hit the floor.

you swallowed, gripping your notepad a little harder as you sent him a tight lipped smile, “hi,”

“since when do you,” he stammered, tripping over his own words before taking a breath, “since when do you work for sky?”

“todays my first day, actually,” you said, a nervous smile on your face, and if he noticed, he thankfully didn’t mention it, “i see mclaren’s been treating you well.”

“y/n, can we-“

“let’s get started, yeah?” you dodged his question, glancing down at your notebook. he nodded softly in response and you motioned for your camera man to begin recording.

as you stood there asking him questions about his race, all he could think about was if you had wondered the same things he did. if you, too, laid awake at night and thought about all the different scenarios and lifetimes where the two of you ended up together. he wondered if you hated him for how he left you, without a proper goodbye.

he didn’t know it, but you could never hate him. even after all these years you couldn’t hate him with a single bone in your body. not when your heart still beats for him.

he opened his mouth to speak after you ended the interview, but it shut quickly as the woman in papaya cut off his thoughts, whisking him away to do more interviews. you watched as he left, a sad and regretful look on his face as he made his way to the next reporter.

“you alright?” your camera man asked, noticing how you chewed on your bottom lip. a nervous tick of yours that everyone seemed to have caught onto.

you nodded, straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, pushing every thought you had to the side berore smiling at the man next to you, “yep, who do we have next?”

[poguehearted77]

Lights, Camera, Action!

Summary-> It's your first day on set and your nerves are through the roof but the cast makes you feel at home. You practice your lines, but the sparks between you and Drew are unscripted.

Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series

These can be read in any order!

You're jet-lagged, but your body has no idea. Too distracted from the abundance of nerves pumping through your veins as you walked around the enormous film lot toward the set.

You stand on the edge of the bustling Moroccan set, heart pounding as you clutch your sides. The scarf draped over your head feels both like a costume and a shield, helping you blend into the character you’re about to bring to life. Even with the months of preparation and the script readings under your belt, this moment feels surreal.

Everyone hustled across the set with purpose, knowing exactly what their job was and how to do it. You had only a fraction of that confidence as you were approached by a familiar face, one of the directors, Josh Pate.

"I can sense your anxiety from a mile away." He teases and it pulls a smile and a small breath of relief that he was friendly. With a comforting hand on your shoulders, "Take a deep breath, go grab a muffin from craft, have some water and I'll see you back here for your scene in 20, alright? I don't need any more faintings on the clock."

Once the words process, he's already gone. Fainting?? More??? With dazed eyes, your eyes scan the environment, dozens of people dressed just like you. Some sitting on the sidelines while others got into place on set. You'd even spotted Madelyn off to the side, a make-up artist lightly padding her face to protect it from the lighting as she prepared for her scene.

You took Josh's suggestion seriously, and promptly, or at least you tried to. You had no idea where to find crafts services or even if you'd be able to find your way back. "Craft Services is the first door on your left." Your head whips around with a face of slight terror in your eyes at the mind-reader from behind you. It's JD.

"How did you know?" It's the first thing you say, slight amusement and a hint of awe evident in your voice. He shrugs, "You were either looking for craft or the bathroom. It was a 50/50 shot, to be honest." He laughs and it calms your nerves a little. After a little while and a good conversation with JD, you glanced at the clock on the wall.

It became apparent you didn't have much time left. Quickly you end the conversation and head inside the room he'd directed you to. The studio was warm, credit to the Morrocan heat that surrounded you on the outside.

"Cups, cups, cups.." You mutter to no one in particular as you desperately scan for the item you need. "Here you go," A big hand is outstretched in front of you with a new cup dwarfed in its palm.

Your eyes followed up the length of the arm until they met those famous ocean-blue eyes that owned your TikTok feed for months last fall. Drew. He has the infamous buzz and soft smile as he looks down at you.

"Thank you," It's a simple response but it's the best you can do in a situation like this. Turning away from him, you fill your cup and finish its contents in nearly one sip before tossing it and rushing back to set not wanting to be late.

You rush back to set, still feeling the phantom warmth of Drew’s presence. For a moment, you wonder if this strange mix of tension and excitement is something all new actors feel or if it’s just you. The scarf draped over your head has now become a makeshift security blanket, as much for your nerves as for your character.

Josh greets you with a reassuring thumbs-up as you step into position, the antique shop set sprawling around you with meticulous detail. Dusty shelves lined with ornate trinkets, cracked pottery, and rusted brass figurines fill the space, dimly lit to convey the musty atmosphere of a forgotten bazaar. The air smells faintly of incense, which only adds to the immersion.

As the Pogues enter the set, Madelyn offers you a friendly wink, her playful energy making the tension in your shoulders ease. You remember bumping into her at one of your meetings with the writers. She's as pure as her character and it was relieving to see a friendly face on set.

Chase gives you a nod of encouragement, while Jonathan seems almost shocked to see you, probably since you'd never mentioned who you would be playing. He sends you a motion of acknowledgement anyway and you smile back.

The cameras start rolling, and suddenly, you are no longer you. As though it were a chemical reaction to the words 'Action', your brain switches to the character you've studied for months in anticipation. No longer Y/n, now Piper.

You busy yourself behind the counter. Attending to the tasks that depend on you as the owner of your antique shop. Your focus is set on the vase in your hands as you sweep over its rim with a cloth.

The bell of the shop chimes as six foreigners enter the shop, standing in a crowd with some of the most grim expressions you'd ever seen. "Vases on the left, woodwork on the right. Let me know if you have any questions." The phrase sounds ingenuine as it has only been repeated every day for the last three years.

"We're not here for some fucking pottery-" Rafe claps his hands down on the counter, you don't react. Sarah corrects him, "Rafe." You look back to the bunch, now standing at your full height,

They were filthy, covered in sand, dirt, and essentially any other grime that could find them. "We need supplies." Sarah says and you shrug, "What did you have in mind? Glasses? Lamps? Clocks?" The group lets out a frustrated set of sounds.

Pope clears his throat, "We need weapons, and we were told to come find you... the pied piper." You tug down the fabric that'd been covering your face to the bridge of your nose. Unveiling the full length of the scar that begins in the center of your forehead, runs down over your left eye and reaches your cheek.

John B whispers, "Just like he said," You make him speak up, "Just like who said. Who sent you?" He steps closer, "Mr. Alami, the merchant from Agapenta. He said you would be able to help us." Your expression elicits a sign of understanding but quickly returns to disinterest.

"I don't help foreigners." The explosive one outbursts again, "You sound just like we do, clearly you're not from here either, so stop shitting us and give us the guns." Those cobalt orbs penetrate the window of your soul but only bring out the sinister grin on Piper's face. "Fine," Swiftly reaching behind your back, revealing the weapon they so desperately wanted, you hold them at gunpoint.

"-And Cut!" You place the gun down on the counter and Drew approaches the counter once again. "That was really good, I even got caught up in it." He places a hand on his chest to add sincerity.

"Thank you so much. I was really nervous for today, I had no idea what to expect." Someway somehow your conversation moves off to the side of the set, seated on those acting chairs.

You laugh as he brings up your fleeting encounter earlier, "I had no idea you were playing Piper. One second I handed you a cup and I turned around and you're gone." Your stomach hurts from laughing. You take a deep breath of air to stop yourself from dying. "Stop stop stop," You beg, neither of you sure what you were laughing about anymore.

There wasn't much time until you would resume the scene but in the short time, Jonathan and Carlacia invited themselves over, giving a proper introduction, sparking a lively group conversation. Being 26 put you somewhere in the middle of the cast's ages, but no one got treated any differently because of it.

This current moment was proof. You and Carlacia posed for a selfie she insisted on taking, honouring the 'newest member' into their family. Both leaning in over the image on her screen you share a hearty laugh. JD is captured in the background in the middle of a gnarly yawn.

"Give me the phone, Lacy. That picture is a federal offence." He threatens, not an ounce of seriousness to be sensed in his voice. "I demand justice." You're almost certain you'd have a fully developed six-pack by the end of filming just from all the laughing.

Before you knew it the break was over and you were back where you'd left off. Went through the scene once more, adjusting anything that needed to be altered and carrying on. "I'm only going to ask you once, what do you want?" You've got a tight grip on the weapon and a crazy look in your eyes.

For the first time, Kiara breaks her silence. "Chandler Groff killed our friend! We can't let him get away with it." Her pleas pique your interest, and it's evident in your expression. "Chandler Groff, The conman?" They nod slowly and you begin to fume.

"Come." You wave them over, whipping open the curtains and entering the back of your shop. Four walls filled with various weapons from swords to machine guns. "Feeling like a kid in a candy store." Cleo beams, looking at the options, nothing but revenge in mind.

"Is that a canon?.." Pope trails off, "You've gotta be ready for anything. Expect the unexpected." Pope wholeheartedly agrees while John B begins questioning your knowledge about Groff. "He wronged some friends of mine. He got away before I could get to him, and that was a good call. I would've blown his brain to bits if I got my hands on him."

Kie smiles at that mention, "That's the dream," John B mutters. "Last time he was here, he was after some magical relic, a mythical one might I add. The blue... crest?" The item is lost on you when Sarah fills in. "The blue crown." It dawns on you at the mention.

"It's real," Kie admits and all the pogues turn to her with horror at her honesty. "Groff has it and god knows where he could be with it." You think, "If what you're telling me is true... then that crown is worth hundreds of millions of dollars. He can't just sell it at any auction. There's only one person with money like that. Mr. Finch."

"Where can we find him?"

"He's far. A two-day journey at minimum. You'll be forced to cross enemy territory and only locals know how to navigate the oasis under the radar. If you really are set on killing Groff, I'd be happy to lead you."

You notice an exchange of various looks between the group. "We need a second." Suddenly there's an exclusive huddle that leaves both you and the tall man at odds. He was sending daggers towards you. "Too cool to be part of their little club, are you?" Rafe stalks towards you, long intimidating strides. Displeased with your little joke.

Your faces were close enough that you could see his pupils dilate and contract now in the light from the window. "Listen. I've heard everything you said, and I'm not buying it. I don't trust you, and if you think for even a second I'll let you get in my way, you've got another thing comin'."

You noticeably gulp, it was unscripted but your nerves propelled it. He towered over you, your dark brown eyes searching his blue ones for any signs of insincerity but none was to be found. Every word he said, he meant it.

"And Cut! Drew, Y/n, amazing," Josh adds, and it's only when you hear your names called that you both back away from each other. However, it felt a little harder than normal, as if something was drawing you in.

Madison calls you over, and your feet are already on the move. With one last glance over your shoulder, your eyes meet his for just a moment.

His piercing eyes hold yours, a mix of curiosity and something unspoken flickering behind them, making your chest tighten with uncertainty. You can see it—he feels it too.

Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza

[shotmrmiller]

need simon to be retired and living in the middle of nowhere with a car-fixing hobby, and you're pulling into his 'shop' because you were road-tripping across the country and now some funky noises are happening underneath the hood.

you tentatively walk towards the open garage, only to spot him under some run-down vehicle that has more rust than sun-faded paint, deflated tires, and a license plate that's also got rust gnawing at the edges, the numbers on it barely discernable.

you rap your knuckles gently on the weathered car, and the wheels of the creeper he's on squeak in protest under him as he rolls out to look at you, filthy gloves smearing the dust on his brow instead of wiping it away.

"err, hi. uh, i was pointed this way by some lovely folk that work in that diner down the way, and they said that you could take a look at my car."

he rises smoothly, even though his joints pop as he does, dark eyes squinting against the sun. he towers over you with broad shoulders and thick arms. a tough-as-teak country man.

you start when he speaks, deep voice echoing off of dusty walls. "they said tha', did they?" he lifts the hem of his grease-stained wife beater to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead, and your gaze involuntarily wanders to the thick trail of coarse, dark hair under his navel.

"what's wrong with it?"

if you knew that, you wouldn't be here, blatantly ogling him in some decrepit workshop located in a sleepy corner of the countryside. "i don't know. it's making some scary popping noises and figured that it needed to be looked at, asap."

your grimace is involuntary when he extends an oil-streaked gloved hand. you really hope he's not expecting you to-

"keys."

right. you wordlessly hand them over and walk a few steps behind him as he heads toward the front of your car. "did ya get it looked at before your trip?"

you want to snap at him, that obviously you did. you may not be some car wizard, however, you can do the bare minimum for it but he's your only hope for getting the hell out of here, so you press your tongue against the back of your teeth for a moment before answering.

"yes. i did prepare for it. got new tires, an oil change, and anything else it may have needed."

he hums at your answer, a low sound in the back of his throat, and curls his fingers under the hood and begins to feel for the release. your mind is in the gutter as your eyes linger on his sun-kissed skin, watching the tendons on his inked forearm ripple with each movement.

your mind is snapped back to reality when he mutters, "i hope ya don't think i'm doin' this for free."

"wouldn't dream of it. you don't seem the charitable type."

the latch yields under his fingertips, and the hood springs open. "i'd say i'm pretty charitable, considerin' i'm even helpin' ya with this."

your eyebrows furrow, corners of your lips pulling downward. "what, were you closed or something?"

he gives you a small smirk while his hand searches for the prop rod inside the engine bay. "do i look like a business, sweetheart?"

embarrassment burns your cheeks, and your mouth gapes unprettily as you turn around to truly take in the place. past the grease-smeared floors, there's rust blooming on the only workbench in the garage, a single red toolbox resting on the ground. there's a car jack tossed in a corner, a vibrant blue cooler by the door, and a few firearms on pegboard shelves. it looks like a simple garage. a personal one.

"oh my god," you stammer, "i'm so sorry, i just- the townsfolk, they led me to believe that you're a mechanic." how bloody mortifying.

he ducks his head under the hood, bending at the waist to lean over the engine, eyes swiftly scanning the machinery. "it's a hobby. i fix my own vehicles... and now yours, i reckon."

eventually, he turns the car on and listens to the engine roar to life before it begins to pop, standing over the open hood with thinned lips and furrowed brows.

he tells you that he can fix it, it'll just take a bit for the part to get here, obviously, so he recommends staying at a rented cabin in town for a few days— maybe even a week— and he'll give you a ride over.

he gets you there in no time, unsurprising because he drove the motorcycle far too fast— illegal, really. he helps you off the bike, your clammy hand in his much bigger, roughened one.

you rip off his helmet, pushing it into his barrel chest. "please never drive me around that fast again." he gives you a couple of pats to the shoulder, chuckling under his breath.

"unless you're plannin' on walkin' to get your car back, i can't promise tha'."

grrrreat.

(the issue was the serpentine belt, it was slightly frayed but the man kept you around for 2.5 weeks under the excuse of something taking too long, or the car being under worse condition. maybe he charges you a kidney for fixing it, and since you can't obviously pay that ridiculous amt of money, he tells you to go on a date with him. gross. or maybe he's a sane man and he just sends you on your way in 2 days time. idk. installs a gps in your car? keepin' tabs on ya cuz he plans on passing by wherever you live by complete coincidence.)

[pixiesholloworld]

✘The tow truck driver?!✘

synopsis : Incoming text from - Toji 🛻 “i wasnt gonna tell you, but you’re fucking hot. but im honestly a hoe and only want one thing.. 🍆💦”

cw: daddy kink, fingering, head (giving/reciving), brat taming?, f!reader

the check engine light has been on for the past month, but you’ve repeatedly ignored it. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right? well, your consistent neglect of the light has landed you in this situation. 

stranded on the shoulder of the highway waiting for some shady tow truck driver to come to your rescue, he was your cheapest option, and when you saw his old beat up truck speeding towards you, you quickly understood why. he came to a stop as he approached, rolling down his passenger window to get a good look at you. 

“you [✿]?”, the brown rust corroded the hood of his car, causing flakes to peel off with the wind. you can’t even imagine what the truck could’ve looked like in it's glory, it was hard to believe years of neglect left the truck in this state— it's almost like he bought it this way. “yeah,” you answered, “are you toji?”

“what’s it look like?” you search the truck to see the faded out: ‘Toji’s Towing’. “oh”

“ya waitin’ for an invite?”

you open the car door to see crumbled-up wrappers from obscure burger joints and empty beer cans—the rubbish, let alone the smell of *sniff* *sniff*… man contorted your face. toji must’ve taken notice of this because it made him chuckle. “excuse the mess, sweetheart,” his raspy voice curling over his words, “you don’t mind, do ya?”

“not at all,” you awkwardly smile. you felt kind of bad for him, honestly. he hooked his crane up to the front of your car and, before pulling off, lit a cigarette. his shoulders were broad and his arms looked strong and heavy, he didn’t have an AC in his car, either that or it didn’t work, so the hot summer air blew in both of your faces 

his black locks stayed all but too far from his face, allowing you to get a glimpse of the scar that marks his lip, his emerald eyes focusing on the road ahead. 

you felt weird for staring at him after a while and didn’t want him to notice, so you averted your gaze to the road, watching the cars pass by you two. you wondered though, how could a hunk like him get in this position. 

“so, you grew up’round here?” He asks

“a little ways from here, i stay with my mom in a duplex”

“nice, where ya comin’ from?”

“my job, i work as a barista at the mall”

“s’ bit far for work don’t you think”

you smile at how easily he set himself up, “you drive a tow truck”

you turn towards him to see a smirk creeping up on his face, he blows out smoke and holds his cigarette out

“fair,” he pulls another drag before putting it out in what you can only assume to be a homemade ashtray, “you got anyone that can look at this for ya at home?” he says gesturing towards your car

“mm no, i was gonna take it to the shop”

he clicks his teeth and sneers, “those punks don’t know the first thing about cars”

“where do you think i should go then?”

he glances over at you before returning his attention to the road, “i’ll look at it for ya”

—

after that convo the rest of the drive was silent, though you both exchanged stolen glances here and there. you tried to tell yourself it was nothing to overthink, though the stirs in your stomach were telling you otherwise. it was hard to act like having an older man’s attention wasn’t somewhat enticing 

when he finally got to your house, he backed your car into the driveway. you couldn’t help but feel a slight sense of relief. though it was nice talking to him, you couldn’t wait to get out of that dump of a tow truck. it made you consider taking those AAA charges next time 

he steps out of the truck and walks around to let you out. when you see his full body for the first time, you’re a bit taken aback. sure he looked ok in the truck, but he looked even better out of it. he had a tall muscular build, and he had to be around 6 feet. how was his truck hiding so much height from your eyes? You shook any remaining amazement from your face and stepped out, hurrying past him to try and avert your gaze

“so what happened anyways, what’s wrong with it?” he immediately walks past you to your car and starts inspecting it

“the engine light was on but.. i thought it would just go away on its own..” you reluctantly admit

“silly girl,” the rasp in his voice making your heart jump, “you should’ve taken this’t the shop when you first saw it” he struts over to you and lays his hand out, you look at his hand and then back up to his captivating eyes, “the keys?” he says.

“oh, yeah, right, right” you hand him the keys, and he turns the car on, popping the hood. you watch as his clothes cling to him, his long, black hair hanging over his face as he inspects different parts of your engine. you notice as he reaches into the engine, his tanned hands become stained with a black substance. it’s kinda hot. when you actually get a good look at him at this angle… he isn’t a bad-looking guy, he’s a little ruff around the edges, sure, but you like that about him

“i might have’ta take this to my shop, really gotta get under there n’figure out what’s going on”

you could name something else you wanted him to get under too, but you quickly shoved that thought in your back pocket, “how much is that gonna be” 

“usually i charge a pretty penny but for you,” he says while wiping his hands on a dirty rag that was stuffed in his pocket, “i’ll do it for free”

“really? oh my god thank you so much”

“s’no problem doll, i should probably get going before it gets too dark though”

you can feel your heart pounding from anticipation not quite wanting him to leave yet

“y-yeah sure, but um… wouldn’t you like to eat first?”

he closes your car hood and smirks

“whatcha cookin?”

—

you turn the keys to your house before inviting him in, he winks at you and makes himself comfortable at the kitchen's island. you walk past him and pull out lukewarm potatoes, you can feel him stare at you as you walk back and forth between the different drawers and potatoes. you tried to focus on what you were doing and tried to think of other things, but your mind would always wonder back to the idea of him bending you over and fucking the living daylights out of you 

you try to sneak a glance at toji but it doesn't work he's still staring just as intensely as before and snickers at your futile attempt to look without him knowing. "somethin' you wanna say, sweetheart?" he asks, words laced with lust

'yeah, i want you to fuck my brains out' some request that is huh? instead, you ask something more appropriate, "could you come peel the potatoes?" so there you two are side by side peeling potatoes, weakly fighting the urge to ask if he's feeling the same way you're feeling. your thoughts suddenly come to a halt though when you realize he's old enough to be married, even so when you peep at his hand, you see no ring, but he's definitely old enough to be somebody's dad.. who are you kidding, you love DILFs 

you go on and on internally struggling on if it would be morally correct to fuck a stranger—a tow truck driver—until he makes the first move for you, his hand slithering along your back to grab your hip, "where's your bathroom at? 've gotta drain the snake" 

"yeah its uh, right around the corner over there"

"thanks doll" he whispers into your ear before squeezing your hip and moving so close past you that you can feel his bulge before he slips away. you were at a loss for words. like actually your mind had went blank, what were you even supposed to do with that?

let him come back to your sprawled out naked body on the kitchen floor? but on second thought you had an even better idea, he clearly wanted you to feel that he was hard cause he feels that you're too scary to make a move. something he didn't know though is that you loved to play the long game and you could tease him all night if you had to

when he comes back, he sees you trying to reach the very top of your cabinet. you can hear his heavy foot steps stop right behind you before he rests a hand on your hips and pulls you close to his warm pelvis. "need help?" he asks. you look up at this tall, buffed up man, and he looks right back down at you

"could you hand me the paper towels up there?"

he hands them to you, but not before pressing himself against you, letting his hard-on poke between your cheeks. you could feel your heart skipping a million miles per minute, your cunt wildly throbbing between your legs, a tiny whimper escaping your lips when he backs away, leaving the paper towels in front of you

defeated, you walk back to the potatoes. how could you tease him back? oh, the bottom cabinet! you quickly plop down, and before he could notice you tug at the bottom of his jumpsuit pants, he looks down and is obviously flustered. you sat on your knees, looking at him with such ardor in your eyes "i need to get another bowl" you say while pointing towards the cabinet, a sneaky smile spreading across your face. "hm?" he says while bending down to your level, "I let you slide the first time, but I think you're forgetting somethin'"

confusion filled your face trying to figure out what it was you could've been missing until he grabs your face pulling you a bit closer to him

"where's your manners at girl?"

oh he was good at this

"what happens if i don't use 'em?"

"might need to train that pretty little mouth of yours"

"yeah? how're you gonna do that?"

he snickers at you, standing up while still holding your face in his big, calloused hand, "whatchu think?"

so there you are, taking every inch of his thick cock in your mouth as his hand holds the back of your head, making sure to push down when he wants to hear that slutty throat struggle to take all of him in 

“so this s’what all that staring was for?” he teases, “what a nasty girl, sucking on a stranger’s cock”

you hum contently, hands lightly grazing against his thighs as saliva collects at his base, slowly dripping onto your tiled floor

he groans while picking up the pace, “such a mess, you like the taste of it? hm? yeah you do”

you gag and hum against him, letting his angry tip bully the back of your throat. you just started, and you're already cock drunk, moaning and twisting your head around while you use your mouth to grip around his length tighter. 

he sucks air through his teeth, letting barely audible ‘fucks’ escape his breath while steadily rolling his hips into your mouth. you use your tongue to  dance around one of his throbbing veins, enjoying how it interrupts his rhythm, making him thrust faster and faster until a sudden mean pop snatches his hips away from your mouth 

he bends down to slip his tongue into your mouth, stealing the taste of his precum right from your mouth. you tongue him back a bit more eagerly, feeling around his teeth and the scar on his mouth until his lips depart 

“you’re so greedy” he teases, “didn’t your throat training teach you anything?”

“please, please kiss me toji” you didn’t think your pussy could take anymore teasing, you could feel how it beat against your squished thighs longing for his touch

he must’ve felt the same cause he stands you up on your feet and moves you on top of the island, snaking your pants off and pulling your slick cunt close to him in the process. “you gotta earn it, princess”, he taunts your clothed entrance with his tip before gracing you with one more kiss 

“put it in, please put it in” you couldn’t wait any longer and started slowly grinding yourself on the tip until, of course, a mean smack to your mound caused you to freeze. you look up at toji and see annoyance plastered on his face. you ooze at the seriousness on his face, waiting for him to say something 

“just for that, i’m not fuckin’ you”

“WHAT! no, please i’m sorry please toji im-“ he covers your mouth with one hand and moves the other towards your wet, sticky folds, collecting a bit of the slick before moving it around your pulsating clit.

he made deep circular motions on it, making you whine every time he hit the peak. your eyes rolled back, and you let him completely take over. your hips stuttering to his touch, he then moved closer, leaving kisses along your ear and down your neck, nipping at the skin 

though you didn’t know your muffled moans were making it hard for toji to stay focused on teasing you, the truth is he was about to cum earlier while you were on your knees. sitting so innocently while taking all of him in you, the way your pretty eyes would flutter at his praise or how you’d scrunch your nose when you pushed your head down more, not to mention that tongue trick you did earlier, instead of thinking about it, he decided to return the favor 

he moves down to your panties and moves them aside, covetously looking up at those same eyes that made his tip leak beads of precum. “that’s it baby, keep those pretty eyes on me,"  he starts slowly at first, his pointed tongue moving up your folds, slowly moving your legs further apart while keeping eye contact. the familiar feeling of haze started filling your mind as desperate moans echoed through your kitchen 

he groans into you, knowing the vibrations will probably make you cum faster, and he gently suckles on your wet bulb, listening to how sweetly you moan out his name. grabbing a fist full of his hair, you push him in deeper, chasing an end you didn't know toji wasn't going to let you reach just yet. 

he stops sucking and instead sticks one finger inside your drenched cunt, moving it ever so slowly while he moves a pointed tongue in swirls on your clit his finger eventually picks up the pace, so he slips two in, then three. he had a merciless tempo, curing his fingers around your g-spot just to hear those pretty little moans 

"m'gonna cum toji~" you'd whine out, but he'd rapidly shake his head against your sopping wet clit and slap your mound, telling you to wait. to say you were drowning in pleasure would be an understatement. you felt hot all over, and with every thrust, you were sure you were going to break. eventually your moans became cries for a release. he turned you into a dripping wet mess, and he loved every bit of it until, of course, you said the magic words 

"please let me cum daddy— fuck!~"

he lifts his head up almost instantly though he's still drilling his fingers through your pussy, "say that again?"

"please let me cum" you whimper, you don't know how much longer you can hold back

"nah girl, the other thing" he stands up, towering over you even as you're seating on the counter. his fingers pump into you slower but deeper, taunting your g-spot

"daddy" you whisper, he brings his other hand to your face and brings you in for a sloppy kiss loving how you moan into his mouth

"atta girl," he pulls his fingers out but the fullness is instantly replaced with his fat, rock hard cock. you felt him tear though you so easily, you desperately pull him in closer while looking at him through half lidded eyes. "look at you, so desperate for daddy's dick" he'd tease

"all fucked out n'still begging f'more" he pulled you in for another kiss and left his tongue slithering in your mouth while he pumped faster, holding you tightly as you struggled to keep up with his kisses. he moved a hand up to your face and held it in place as he tongued you, you felt a smile spread across his face as you struggled to keep it together until all you could do was wail into his mouth

his pace was harsh and unrelenting he fucked you like he was angry at you, punching your cervix with such vigor and gusto, you moaned louder practically screaming but all he did was move his mouth to your ear and whisper.

"that's it princess let it out, you're making sucha mess of yourself on me," you squeeze tighter at his words feeling your body go limp at the over stimulation, "you wanna cum on me?"

you shake your head yes almost instantaneously and he moves his head to look directly at you, moving his hand down to your clit, covering it in slick before rubbing it in circles. "go ahead," he coos, "cum on daddy's dick— sh-shit"

he keeps rolling his hips into you until you finally come to your shaky finish, leaving scratches on his skin as you try to grasp your way back into reality with toji following close behind, loudly groaning and pulling out before fisting himself over your stomach releasing thin milky shoots of cum

he holds you close to him and leaves kisses on your head before helping you off the counter, it was weird feeling the ground under you again the sudden rush of blood making your legs feel like jello

"so about your car,"

right, shit he was in here to eat FOOD and go home not fuck you

"ill probably be able to fix it by tomorrow, n'maybe come drop it back off," he says while slipping his jumpsuit back on, "unless you wanna come to mine instead”

"you'd love that wouldn't you"

"think your pussy would like it more" he teases, pulling you closer to him. he was gonna turn you on all over again until you heard the front door open

[thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch]

a/n: 2.3k - boothill finds you digging around in junk and then offers you a gift he hopes you won't refuse... [plsdontflopplsdontflopplsdont-]

the heavy metal clinking of boothill's foot steps clank their way to your shop's door. an all too familiar door he'd always find himself going up to whenever he was in need of repair- big or small. the swiveling security camera you keep at your entrance blinks with red-lit life and moves to start following his movements as soon as he enters it's field of vision.

who knows if you're ever actually paying attention to the camera feed or not though. you can be careless like that. sometimes you're just out- couldn't be bothered or could care less about the remote feed linked directly to your phone. other times, you're so focused on some project you neglect it entirely.

based on the sign hanging on your shop's door he was familiar with- it seemed that this time in particular you were out.

boothill didn't need to know how to write- much less read well- to take a wild gander as to where you had wondered off to. putting his spring loaded and metal jointed hands on his slim waist, his chin dips with an amused chuckle and shake of his head. the cowboy lifts the toe of his mechanical boot and twists his body fully 'round; his spurs scrapping across the ground during his lazy about-face. with one foot in front of the other and thumbs hooked through the hollow crops of his trousers, the galaxy ranger makes his way towards the junk yard.

it would never occur to the standard person to spend their free time digging around a scrap yard filled with junk thrown out for a reason- but you were anything but standard. if you weren't tinkering around in your shop or finishing up a repair or commission, you were scrounging around the grounds for material or 'hidden treasure'... which was key for just slightly more valuable junk.

a typical haul for you would be a few pieces of scrap metal you could use for wielding, the rare unstripped screw or loose gaggle of bolts, and all sorts of wire. if it saved you a few credits by finding material instead of buying them, you weren't one to argue with free trash.

passing under the wire-metal gate leading into the fenced-off territory, his thumbs still tucked into his pant legs, his ears stay sharp. listening for any sound of you digging around in some heap while his head swivels back and forth to try and catch a glimpse of you.

"ey, sugar, you around!" boothill shouts, one of his hands detaching from his hips to cup around his mouth. he wanders further in, gets more ground, before calling out the same sentence a second time. shaking his head in bewilderment on how far in you had gone digging, he goes even further still and tries calling out a third time.

"here!" you finally answer back. your voice echoes around him, bouncing off the scrap metal and spooking the rats and other critters that call the junk yard home. his head turns in the direction of your voice, the way his body leans towards it before his feet start carrying him that way never took notice in his own mind.

eventually, he makes it to you. squat down to the ground, under the rusty remains of some poor saps long eroded escape pod from whatever solar system they crashed in from. he crosses his arms, then his ankles, leaning his metal shoulder on the ruined dome you were digging under.

the ranger had no idea how long you had been out here, but judging by the half full bag you kept on your shoulder and the grease sticking to your neck and exposed skin he could guess it's been a bit. he chuckles when you dig out a rusted, broken pipe of... something, before tossing it over your shoulder with a disappointed click of your tongue and looking up at him. your cheeks had some gunk on it too, probably from you wiping the back of your gloves on it.

"fancy diggin' around in junk?"

"it's not all junk."

"the fudge it aint," he scoffs. to him, it absolutely was all junk. "this aint called the dang junk yard for nothin, sugar."

"it's a scrap yard."

"stubborn-bottom." you move to stand up, clapping your gloved hands together before taking them off so you could use your hands more freely. "good to see ya took my advice and startin' wearing some forkin' gloves around here." he eyes around at all the rust and sharp metal. "gonna get tetanus or somethin', and we can't have that."

"im liable to get tetanus from you before anything else," you joke so straight-faced it didn't feel like a joke. his crossed arms drop along with his jaw and his stance straightens as he uncrosses his ankles.

"ey', i aint as forkin' filthy as you pretend i am, and you know it." you shrug with a half smirk that was so dismissive he was tempted to keep arguing. you push the goggles you were wearing over your eyes to avoid getting anything in them and possible irritation onto your forehead. seeing the contrast between your sweaty, grease and dirt marked skin and the clean skin that was protected under the goggles had him scoff. "yer filthier than i am, by the look of things."

you roll your eyes and move to climb out of the rusty treasure trove of junk you had deemed no longer having anything of value. reaching out, boothill offers you his hand. you take it easily as he starts pulling you up and out to stand in front of him. your hand drops from his when you stand safely in his bubble, and he isn't sure if you know how close you are or not.

your nose is always so focused in tinkering around or messing with work that you can't always... read the room so to speak. its endearing, until it gets frustrating anyway.

"so, what're you here for this time? need something fixed again- i swear if you already burned through that new servo i replaced a month ago, im going to take off your arm and you won't get it back for a week."

"well, that's awful sweet of you." you knew by his dry tone and sneered lips that exposed his sharp teeth that the word sweet was definitely supposed to be a different five-letter word starting with 's'. one that his broken beacon (which you refuse to fix out of entertainment) wouldn't allow him to say.

"seems like an appropriate consequence to me, considering i don't charge you for repairs."

"i ain't here for not goose-dud repair," he hisses. "i had planned on givin' ya somethin', but based on your sweet attitude i aint so sure about it now."

"you brought me something?" he nods. "from a different solar planet?" he could see the curiosity start to ignite in your eyes. he nods again. you stuff your gloves into a pouch in your pants that he swears you've sewed another pocket into, before you're marching away from him and towards the entrance he had marched from at the beginning of this search. "well come on, let's get a moving!" you shout over your shoulder.

his synthetic voice chuckles at your back. eagerly waltzing after you.

boothill soon finds himself sitting with his knees apart and comfortably lounging with his arms on the back of your worn-down, two-cushioned couch the moment you two got back to the shop. he had taken himself to your quote- reception room, as he waited for you to unload your finds from the junkyard (meaning you just took your bag, flipped it upside and let its content spill out unceremoniously onto your worktable before you would eventually sort through it at a later time).

the tapping of his metal toes against your floor echoed dully against the rug under the sofa as you soon made your way to stand in front of him, hands on your hips and an expectant look in your eyes. flicking the brim of his hat cheekily to get a better look up at you, he lifted his chin.

"my attention is yours," you dramatically sigh, hands flaring to your sides before bouncing back against your legs.

"im flattered, sugar," he jests back. still, he shifts. the small pouch he had strung to his belt that was home to his array of extra fire rounds was soon detached from him. the string of which was used to tie it to him previously, hangs lazily from his metal fingertips. with a raised, semi-skeptical brow, you carefully take it off his hands.

"if this is some sort of prank," you warn. his hands raise in the air with his elbows still resting comfortably on the back of the cushions he was leaning against, gesturing that he meant no harm.

slowly- cautiously- you pull open the bag and remove two different items that had been nestled safely inside.

tossing the now empty bag onto the couch next to boothill's leg, you took each item into one hand and looked between them. one was a small crystal that was no larger than the center of your palm. shining a swirling color of green and blue, you could only imagine that it would look even prettier properly polished and with a light shining behind it. in the other was a small box, one that could be opened with a rusty lid. giving it a small rattle revealed something to be inside. doing so revealed a small robot that had been covered in rust, missing a robotic arm and wires spilling out from under the cracked and broken screen that would most definitely have acted as it's face.

"what's all this?" you ask softly. boothill stands from his lackadaisical lounging on your sofa to come and waltz up to your side. he pointed at the robot sitting sadly in the container he had brought him in first.

"i found this lil fella and thought you'd have a gas fixin' him right up. as for that," he points to the crystal of dual-swirling shades next, "accordin' to my scanners, that there's a pretty dadgum power source." boothill takes the small crystal from your palm and hovers it just above the robot. "it suits him, don't it?" he chuckles.

in truth, the slightly dingy looking crystal shard was too magnificent compared to the busted and rusted robot. but, with a bit of work, repair and love, perhaps the color of the crystal really would look nice against polished sheet metal.

"i figure givin' you somethin' else to tinker with would be more... enriching than just your usual forkin' machines." and it could keep you company, but he didn't say that out loud.

when you would get it working like he knew you could, maybe you'd stop and think about him while he was away chasing his reality out as a galaxy ranger. if you could just spare a single thought towards him every day because of a small robot and shiny rock? he'd be tickled pink.

"he's cute," you whisper gently and boothill wonders if you know you said it out loud at all. he chuckles, bringing his hand up to cup the designed dents atop his cowboy hat. taking it off his head, he gently drops it onto yours, gaining your attention back from the gifts he had given you.

the way you lift your eyes to look at him- filled with something akin to excitement and fondness- and gently cradle the small rusty robot with his hat now shadowing your face, he could almost hear the wires in his chest running on turbo. he'd had to cool down asap before he overheated or crashed.

taking a step back- for his own sake- he leaves his hat on your head before patting your back.

"get to it," he softly tells you. you mutely nod, an excited smile breaking out over your lips as you trot towards a different room. it was a small private work space you retreated to for personal projects. boothill was one that was usually allowed inside since this room was where he would get his tune ups most times.

with boothill following your back, he watches you trot to your work bench. you gently set the robot's box down and remove it from inside. the crystal you submerged in a bowl that you soon fill with polish to let it soak. it took all of ten minutes before you're surrounded by tools and wires and equipment made for digital repairs. all the while boothill remade his comfort in a worn-down rocker you kept in the corner, content on staying put until he was forced to leave. whether it by your or by his next bounty.

he couldn't very well leave you with his hat either, even if it looked better on you than him.

the next time boothill comes into your shop after that gift drop off, it wasn't a visit but a proper repair. running out of cooling agent for his internal hardware was just waiting for a disaster to happen. his synthetic-coded laugh burst into the room jollily as when he sat down on the stool he always planted his ass in for repairs, a small, shiny robot- with the cutest digital expressions and a small blue-green swirling crystal placed in the center of its chest- was waddling across your work bench. a vile of blue cooling agent the near size of his small metal body grasped tightly in its robotic arms.

it chirped happily with a digital reverb when you thank it for bringing the coolant over.

boothill was indeed tickled as pink could get seeing you already attached to the lil fella. he wondered what you named it.

a/n: smol robot go beep-boop (i love the idea of mechanic!reader just having a cute lil guy to follow them around like a puppy :(( [big thanks to @/birinboom and my partner for letting me pick their brain on what gifts boothill ended up giving to the reader bc i had no idea lol smooches <3]

[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.

[vivwritescrappythings]

small apologies

simon riley x afab!reader

Six months have passed since Simon took you back to his place, he wants to say he's sorry.

part one

tw: smut, mentions of suicidal actions/thoughts, depressed simon, bisexual simon, afab and fem reader, oral f!receiving, fingering, a touch of butt play, wrote this while very tired.

word count: 6.5k

masterlist

MDNI!

—

It had been nearly six months since Simon saw you. 

You’d weaseled your way into his fucking brain like a parasite, the dejected look on your face haunting him. 

But it was more than just that, he’d catch himself thinking about the way you fidgeted with the cardboard coaster at the pub, or how you’d stumbled over your feet to catch up with him on the way to his flat, or your fucking giggle on his front doorstep.

The worst was when he was fisting his cock in the frantic moments he could find privacy while deployed, his mind wandering back to your dulcet moans as you ground yourself against his lap. There was a wet spot on his jeans when you left—he’d shamelessly fished them out of the dirty laundry to sniff a few days later.

Johnny would’ve been disappointed in him for treating you like that. 

He kept that in mind when he finally got back to his flat, dropping his bag of gear on the slightly dusty floor to see your coat hanging lonely on the hook. Of course you’d forgotten it. The way you stormed out was still clear in his mind, your retreat so rushed and hasty that he couldn’t even get a word in edgewise.

Had you really been wearing this corduroy monstrosity at the pub? You must have been so pretty that he didn’t even notice, too focused on getting you home to care. 

Simon thought he’d be doing you a favor if he just tossed the thing, the rust colored jacket all frayed on the ends and missing a few buttons. It looked like a favorite coat, a little too well-loved around the edges.

He had to return it to you. Wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t. Or at least that was a decent enough excuse as any to go on a manhunt for your information. You never exchanged phone numbers… or even last names. 

If he ever did manage to find you, he’d have to talk to you about being more weary of strangers. Especially strangers that looked like him—chewed up and spit out by the world.

Rifling through your pockets rewarded him with some lint, a squished piece of gum still in its paper wrapper, and a ball of crumpled receipts. Simon pushed aside the feeling of guilt associated with going through your personal things as he spread the receipts flat on his kitchen counter. 

They were all from a coffee shop near the university, the order across the receipts was identical: a hazelnut latte and almond croissant. 

You liked sweet things. It was fitting.

—

He showed up at that damn coffee shop dozens of times in the next week, so much so that the baristas memorized his order. Medium black coffee with just a splash of milk. The gals usually had it prepared for him by the time he made it up to the register, having recognized his wide shoulders before he even got through the glass door and the little bell announced his arrival. 

The university students studying gave him odd looks, seeing him jammed behind one of the tiny tables and trying to inconspicuously watch the door. They were everywhere, laptops and textbooks spread out on the tables and seats–but none of them were you.

It took him another week of showing up at random times to muster up the courage to ask the baristas about you. 

They didn’t want to tell him at first, suspicious gazes as he described you and gave them your name. How could he blame them? If anything, he should have been praising them for their willingness to keep your identity protected.

Then one of the girls from the back of the house came forward, arms folded over her apron like an accusation and sending the hand-written name tag clattering to the tile. “Wait, are you Simon?”

His scarred, blonde eyebrow raised. There was a clumsy, confused nod of his head. He hadn’t expected you to tell anyone, thought you would’ve been as embarrassed as he was about the whole thing. Probably even more embarrassed than him, to be honest.

Simon found himself impressed by how the barista stood her ground, jaw set and feet planted like she was ready for him to jump the counter and attack her. The other girls were whispering to one another, all wide-eyes and shocked expressions as they tittered. “I don’t really think she wants to see you.”

His teeth dug into his cheek, pulling his expression to one side as his dark eyes traced the grout of the tile floor.

“Just been lookin’ to apologize to her about what happened,” Simon finally admitted, awkward and uncomfortable in his attempt at honesty. One big hand came to rub at the back of his neck, feeling sweat pooling at his nape.

He’d killed people without the bat of an eye, but talking about apologizing to you made him break out in a sweat.

The silence was deafening, like he’d just set off a grenade near the cash register and they were dealing with the aftershock. The barista didn’t seem to be buying it, her weight shifting from her right side to her left as she moved her stance.

“And I’ve got her jacket. The ghastly orange one?” He sounded unsure, like he didn’t know what jacket was currently hung up next to his front door. “Thought she’d want it back, and I’ll only give it to her myself.”

Keeping your jacket as a hostage had to be a new low. He could tell you loved the coat, he figured that would be enough to convince the barista to divulge your information.

The girl sighed, rolling her eyes behind her thick-framed glasses. “She comes around nine at night, pretty much every day except weekends. You’ll catch her then, but she probably won’t want to talk to you.”

Good enough for him. 

“Thanks ladies,” Simon muttered, turning and leaving without even grabbing his coffee.

—

You were tucked into a booth in the back of the shop and hunched over your laptop. 

Simon had to pause for a moment, you hardly even looked like the same girl from the pub. Every stitch of makeup was gone from your face, your fancy dress had been exchanged for a soft sweater and leggings. 

He found that he preferred you this way.

There was a moment of hesitation before he forced himself to approach. Your jacket was clutched in his hand, smelling like his laundry detergent. 

Anxiety dripped down his spine for a moment, he didn’t realize he would be so terrified to approach you. He must be a fool to think that you would welcome him with that pretty smile of yours, your eyes flashing with the same mischief he had seen all those months ago.

But Johnny would push him to apologize, to talk to you. He wouldn’t have wanted Simon to be miserable for the rest of his life, and you’d already decided to become a permanent resident of his mind.

He ended up approaching the cash register, stalling the inevitable confrontation for a moment. “I’ll get a small black coffee and a medium hazelnut latte,” he muttered, forking over the bills in a hurry. Maybe if he came over with a coffee it would be a sort of peace offering—one of many if you didn’t outright turn him away.

With both coffees in hand and your jacket tucked under his arm, Simon finally approached you. He had to keep reminding himself that he was a soldier, he’d stared down the barrels of guns and had been buried alive, but for some reason he found you to be terrifying.

You didn’t look up from your laptop, even when he was looming over you like the grim reaper. The sound of your fingers flying over the keyboard was impressive, a near-constant stream of tapping that put his search-and-peck method to shame.

He cleared his throat, shifting his stance as you looked away from your work. 

The way your expression fell when you saw him made Simon’s stomach twist into a knot.

“I was warned that you might show up,” you said, twisting a pen around your fingers as your head tilted to one side. “Didn’t think you actually had the guts.”

He winced. It was deserved, it didn’t take much self-awareness to recognize that. He continued to stand awkwardly in front of the table, unsure if you wanted him to sit down with you or were about to tell him to fuck off.

“Well, sit down, then,” you said, your gaze trailing to the booth across from you and back to Simon’s face. “Can’t have you just standing there like an oaf.”

If there was one thing Simon was excellent at, it was taking orders. His knees bumped yours under the table, making you shuffle out of the way as he set the paper coffee cup down next to your empty one. Or at least he hoped it was empty. 

“Um, ‘ve got your jacket,” he said after a beat of silence, setting the orange coat on the table. You reached for it, but Simon’s big paw of a hand kept you from snatching it back. “Can we talk? For a minute?”

When did he start sounding like a miserable teenager?

You huffed, folding your hands up under your chin and resting the weight of your head on them. “Fine, Simon.” The syllables were drawn out like you were already annoyed.

He swallowed thickly, soldiering on. “Just wanted to apologize.” It came out quieter than he’d meant it to, more uncomfortable. His dark eyes were focused on the wood grain of the table, calloused fingertips tapping the coffee cup still in his hand.

You just hummed, expression flat as you looked him up and down. His jaw flexed as he took a breath. The background music in the little coffee shop was some song from a movie he half recognized, it was one Johnny had forced him to watch when they’d still been clumsily flirting, shoulders pressed together on the too-small loveseat on base. 

The skin on the nape of his neck was damp when he scraped his palm across it. “I… I was havin’ a hard time, wasn’t fair to use ya like that.”

Surprise made your expression twist along with the sinking feeling in his gut. It was a stupid idea to come here and apologize—all of this for some silly crush? He needed to get his head back on his shoulders.

“So what was the hard time?” you asked, sending his train of thought off the rails. He didn’t think you’d want to know. “You and that Johnny fellow break up or something?”

A few months ago a question like that would have destroyed Simon. How could he put that his whole life ended into words? That for over a year, he wished he’d been dead in the ground with him—he just didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger when he’d actually put the gun in his mouth.

He sighed, scrubbing his hand over the lower half of his face. “He died. Killed in action.” 

The way your expression sank made his heart ache. Your harsh demeanor completely changed, melting into empathy. You reached across the table toward him, your soft fingers running across the back of his hand. The feel of your skin against his made his stomach flip.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” you said, brows furrowed over your eyes. Your obvious concern was endearing, genuine despite not having to be.

His tongue clicked against his teeth as he shook his head. “Wouldn’t’ve told you if I didn’t want you to know,” he said, voice quiet. There was a level of trepidation to his words, he said didn’t want to scare you off by saying too much.

You hummed softly, nodding as you pulled your hand back. Simon had to resist the urge to grab it. He tapped his fingertips on the table top instead.

“How, um, how long were you together?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked at Simon. It was kind of you to ask, most people wouldn’t want to know more about his dead boyfriend.

“Two years n’some.” He drank a sip of his coffee just to give himself something to do with his hands. “Hell, he’s been gone for almost as long as we were together.” 

The realization caught Simon off guard, had two years really already passed by? He’d hardly noticed. He was barely alive for them.

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered again, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the table. You took a sip of the hazelnut latte he bought you as you looked at him over the rim. He was entranced when you licked the foam off your upper lip. 

Simon just shrugged. “S’part of the job, we both knew that,” he muttered, looking down at the table for a moment. The hanging silence made his skin crawl. “He was my best friend, too, ya know? Even before we were together and everythin’—he just knew all there was to know about me.”

You listened intently while he rambled about his relationship with Johnny, sipping your coffee and genuinely paying attention. Simon couldn’t recall the last time someone actually listened to him like this, at least someone he wasn’t paying to do it. He found himself choking up when he had to catch his breath. 

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you blurted, a kind attempt to spare him from having to spill his emotions to you. He wanted to thank you for trying. “You apologized, I accept. It’s really alright. You didn’t have to apologize at all.”

But he did.

“Nah, doll, thought about you too much afterward to not apologize.” There it was again, that surprised look on your face. Whatever image of him you had, he wanted to erase it from your mind forever. “You took up a damn residence in my head while I was deployed, really pissed me off for a while.” 

The corner of your mouth twitched with the threat of a smile.The change of subject breathed life back into the conversation, both of you taking a deep breath. He fixated on it, dark brown eyes staring at your lips long enough that he would have burned a hole through it.

“Took up a residence in your head? Is it a flat or more of a bedsit?” you asked, a hint of mischief flashing in your eyes. 

Simon chuckled, shaking his head to himself. “A damn villa, actually,” he corrected, running a hand through his choppy haircut. The amount of brain space you’d been taking up lately was embarrassing.

You snorted, the sound nearly making his heart stop. He watched you fold a napkin into smaller and smaller triangles as you looked at him, chipped nail polish catching the light. “Sounds pretty nice, can’t say I ever stayed in a villa before,” you quipped.

His laugh sounded like a bark, harsh and deep. “Well you practically own the place now, doll, so you better enjoy it,” he said, taking a drink of his now lukewarm coffee. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, resting your chin in the palm of your hand and letting your elbow dig into the tabletop. “So Simon, what brought you here? I know it can’t just be that I was on your mind,” you said, the smile you’d been starting to sport fading.

The fact that you could see through him like that caught him off guard. Simon spread his big hands flat on the table, pressing his fingertips against the wood veneer as he considered his answer. “My shrink n’I talked about it a lot,” he finally muttered.

If he hadn’t been trying to bore a hole through the table with his eyes he would’ve seen your eyebrows tick up in surprise. “A shrink? You decided to see a therapist?” 

A half smile formed on his face, his eyes still downturned from yours. Hearing your shock was enough. “Court mandated,” he supplemented, glancing at you for a moment before looking away again. “Busted up some guys pretty good for harassing people outside a gay pub couple months ago, got off easy.” 

“Well aren’t you a good samaritan,” you said, not even mentioning that he was at a gay pub. He didn’t know why he expected you to fixate on that more.

“Try my best,” he mumbled, blushing at the compliment. He couldn’t look away from you for too long, wanting to see every expression you made like it was his last chance. And it very well might’ve been his last chance, it would be easy for you to take your jacket back and shoo him off.

There was something in your expression that made his breath catch in his throat. The sparkle in your eye looked like you were going to forgive him, and he realized he was ready to do anything to be absolved of his sins by your gentle hand.

The sound of a chair being flipped upside down and put on a table made him flinch, snapping the two of you out of it as the baristas started to close up shop. He’d never been more aggravated in his life than when he watched the baristas start their closing duties. 

“Oh, didn’t realize it was so late,” you said, frantically starting to pack your things into the backpack on the seat next to you.

Simon swallowed, Adam’s Apple bobbing beneath his skin. “Guess time got away from us.”

He walked out behind you like a guard dog, hot on your heels and towering over you as you stood on the sidewalk. The glow coming from the coffee shop window lit you up in yellows and oranges, softening you like an oil painting.

“Thanks… for bringing my jacket back,” you said, sounding a touch awkward as you looked up at him. You had the orange jacket folded over your forearm.

He nodded, a soft grunt of acknowledgment coming from his chest. “Didn’t fit me when I tried it on, so I figured I’d give it back.”

You laughed, shaking your head. The weight of your gaze dragged up from his heavy black boots to his shaggy crop of blonde hair. “Well, have a good night, Simon,” you murmured, taking a step back from him. You said it low and quiet, moving away from him slowly.

He didn’t see car keys or anything on you, and he didn’t like the idea of you taking the tram so late and by yourself. “How are ya getting home?” he asked, stepping forward toward you.

You paused your retreat. “I was gonna walk, s’only twenty minutes from here.” You pointed in some direction. 

Simon crossed his arms over his chest. Making you walk at night? That wouldn’t do.

“My car’s parked right there, I can drive you,” he said, his voice hardly leaving room for argument. But thankfully you just nodded and accepted, following him to the car parked on the curb. 

“Thanks, Simon,” you murmured, eyes stuck on him as you wedged past him to clamber in the passenger seat, your backpack between your feet.

“For you? S’not a problem,” he assured you, letting the door snap closed with a click.

—

Simon parked outside of your flat, the two of you looking at the porch light that you told him had gone out. He busied himself with studying your profile, the slope of your nose and the pout of your lips. It took every ounce of self control to not reach out and turn you for a kiss.

He was such an idiot to tell you not to kiss him the first time. 

“So…” you trailed off, turning to look at him. The way you tilted your head betrayed how conflicted you felt. “Even though I would like to invite you inside so you could start your real apology, I think I’ll have to wait for you to ask me on a proper date.”

His heart thumped—he really wanted to go inside with you. 

The hope of tasting your deliciously wet cunt had kept him going through his last deployment, the thought of hearing you moan his name. Simon had to adjust how he was sitting. 

“I can do a proper date,” he said, a thick arm stretching across the console to grasp the back of your seat. “Pick ya up, go out for a meal.”

He’d probably do anything you asked. Devotion was something that came easy to him, he could already feel the need to satisfy your every want rising in his mind.

“Yeah?” you asked, a ghost of a smile pulling your lip. It was almost as if you’d expected him to deny you.

How could he deny you anything?

“Yeah, doll,” he confirmed, a steadfast nod of his head that sent some of his blonde hair onto his forehead. “Take you anywhere, just gotta tell me.”

Your face scrunched up a bit in the dim light in the car, nose wrinkling as you looked up at him from the passenger seat. Then you were leaning over the console, a hand fisting in the dark fabric of his coat and yanking him down toward you.

Simon acquiesced, letting his spine curve as you pulled him in. “You gonna let me kiss you this time?” you asked, your faces only a few centimeters away from one another at this point.

Your breaths mingled together, just a little movement forward and he’d finally feel your soft lips against his scarred ones.

The scars on his face didn’t ever seem to bother you, even when you first met at the pub. You looked at his scarred face and slightly crooked nose and talked to him anyways. Went home with him anyways. 

“Course, d’be daft not to,” he grumbled, dark eyes skirting down to your lips for a moment. You smirked, eyes flashing with your triumph. 

Simon closed the space between you two, lips slanting over yours. 

He didn’t think he’d ever feel alive again, but kissing you made him reconsider. 

You made a soft surprised sound against his mouth before relaxing into it, your hands finding his jacket collar and tugging him even closer. He hardly noticed the console pressing against his thigh and stomach as he twisted over it, one paw of a hand finding the soft plush of your thigh beneath the leggings. 

The kiss quickly became heated, tongues and teeth meeting as your fingers twisted into the short locks of blonde hair at the nape of his neck. Simon could crack your ribs open and swallow you whole, his hands grabbing at the curve of your waist and the flesh of your ass as he tried to feel as much of you as he could. 

You didn’t deny him, twisting in your seat as much as you could. He groped you like some pathetic teenager, licking into your mouth as his hands squeezed at your breasts through the thick knit of your sweater and skimmed dangerously far up between your thighs. 

“Simon,” you breathed as he trailed his lips along your jaw and to your neck. He was being greedy, taking more than you originally agreed to give. It felt like life had been breathed back into his corpse and he couldn’t let it go.

He hummed against the column of your throat. “Just let me start my apology,” Simon murmured, his deep voice even tougher than normal. His fingers traced the tight elastic waistband of your leggings, delighting in the feeling of the layer of pudge pressing above them.

“Simon… someone will see.” More of a whine than actually telling him to stop. You tilted your head to give him more access to the delicate skin of your throat, making him smile against your throat. 

“A small apology,” he mumbled, squeezing your inner thighs with a hand. “No one will see, promise.”

It earned him a whimper, your legs spreading so Simon could fit his hand between them. He flattened the meat of his palm against your pubic bone, long fingers stretching back to cup your cunt through the thin layers of your leggings and panties. Heat radiated off you onto his hand.

You sighed, fingers tightening their grip on his hair. “What if someone walks by?” He could appreciate the slight tremble of anxiety in your tone.

“Back seat windows are tinted, that better?” he asked against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, laving his tongue over the skin. His other hand had snaked up the hem of your sweater and was pawing at the curve of your waist.

You hummed, nodding quickly. Simon didn’t realize how fast he ushered you over the center console and into the back seat until you were careening over it and tumbling into the leather upholstery. He smirked, taking the opportunity to grab a handful of your plush ass that made you burst out in a giggle and swat at his hand. 

Adrenaline was already buzzing through him as he got up to get out of the car—there was no way he could fit over the console even if he wanted to. He made sure to push the front seat all the way forward so he had somewhere to put his legs. 

Getting in was a clumsy thing, he hit his head on the roof of the car as he planted his knees into the leather seat. He grunted, rubbing his forehead with a hand as he bent down further. Twisting to close the door was a mess, leading to you giggling as he finally was able to reach the handle and yank it shut. 

“Oh, y’think that’s funny?” Simon asked you, a wolfish grin on his face as he set his sights on you.

You looked so sweet and cute, a hand pressed over your mouth as you snickered and your eyes flashing with a bit of mischief. The little shake of your head was too adorable for words, only making his smile grow even wider.

He liked this playful side of you, it felt like the two of you hadn’t been able to let go of the seriousness of your last encounter. 

“That’s it, doll.” Simon felt like a monster shoved in here with you, taking up all the extra space in the back seat as he reached for you. Big hands curled around the tops of your thighs and yanked you toward him. 

You squeaked a laugh as you landed on your back. He was already crowding in, pressing you nearly in half on the seat as he bullied his way into your personal space. 

The feeling of your fingertips running through his short hair made him groan. He almost didn’t know what to do with you—you were so soft compared to him, he was worried he would break you without meaning to.

His mouth found yours in the dark, the softness of your lips molding to his without effort. You moaned into the kiss, pulling him in by the nape of his neck. 

A big hand planted on the leather seat next to your head, holding the weight of his body off you as he hungrily licked into your mouth. He just couldn’t help himself, he was too greedy to stop.

His other hand snapped the waistband of your leggings against the soft skin of your stomach, making your breath hitch—but you didn’t stop him.

The elastic was tight as he pushed his fingers beneath it, the soft layer of pudge on your belly squishing as he did. He shifted his weight back to his knees, breaking the kiss as he yanked your leggings and panties down in one smooth motion.

“Simon!” you yelped, eyes wide as you looked at him.

He was hardly paying attention, pushing your knees to your chest. His big hands braced on the backs of your thighs, the mess of your underwear and leggings rucked up just enough that he could see all of you.

If you told him his tongue lolled out like some cheesy cartoon, Simon wouldn’t have been surprised. You had the prettiest cunt he ever saw: slick and puffy—she was already drooling for him.

“Jesus, doll,” he grunted, dark eyes still focused at the apex of your thighs. “You’re just as pretty down here, aren’t you?”

You made a strangled noise, one of your hands grabbing at his and wrapping around his ring and pinky finger. “You’re being ridiculous,” you whined, still not telling him to fuck off or to stop.

He chuckled, feeling his mouth watering as he imagined diving between your legs. “Just want to apologize to her for neglecting her last time, can I do that?” he asked you, voice low and gruff. 

Your thighs trembled under his hands, trying to squeeze together. He swore he saw a bit more slick trickle out of you, running down your perineum and pooling in your puckered asshole. God, he’d give anything to taste you. 

But you hadn’t said anything yet. The silence felt like it was sucking the air out of the car. He suddenly felt enormous and ungainly, the fear that you didn’t want this sending a chill down his spine. 

“Y-yeah,” you finally breathed, your voice breathy and high. 

Relief breathed back into his body, a smile tugging at his lip. “Yeah?” he repeated, already maneuvering so he was almost level with your pussy. He pressed wet kisses against the backs of your thighs and felt you squirm.

“Shit, please,” you ended up whining, sounding wrecked already. Simon’s heart skipped a beat, not believing that you were so needy you were already begging him.

“Calm down.” He licked the words into the puffy lips of your pussy. Before he knew it, he coaxed them open with his crooked nose and was glistening from nose to chin. It still didn’t feel like enough, he was selfish, he needed to be drowning in you.

You were the opposite of calm, legs straining against his hands and hips rutting up toward his face after the first touch. He loved how responsive you were, mewling and whining and fucking soaking wet for him. It’s everything he could do to keep his head on his shoulders and not try to unhinge his jaw to swallow you whole.

All he could smell or taste was you, a heady mix of sweat and sweetness and musk that was all you. It pulled him in, desperate to drink as much of you as possible.

Your thighs spread as much as they could with your leggings around your knees, giving Simon just enough space to jam the bump along the bridge of his nose against your clit. He would let you break his nose again if you wanted to.

He felt delirious. Of course, he��d been with other women before you and had eaten them out, but Johnny was the only person he really felt devotion for. Yet here he was, brain blissfully devoid of a thought that didn’t pertain to you and your pleasure.

Devotion was a feeling Simon missed.

He moaned into your pussy, tongue laving over you without rhyme or reason for a few moments in an attempt to taste every part of you. You squirmed under him, whining beautifully as his big hands pushing down on your thighs pinned you to the leather seat.

Anyone who dared look into the car would get a show, you nearly bent in half beneath him, his big form curled over you and contorted so much that his left leg was starting to go numb. He hardly noticed.

“Simon!” you gasped. He was rock hard in his jeans, almost painfully stiff against his zipper as his tongue lapped at your fluttering hole. You whimpered as you let your head fall back against the seat, pushing your cunt against his face. 

He squeezed your thighs, wanting to unzip his jeans and take himself in his hand while he feasted on you. But he didn’t want to let go. The feel of your soft skin and soft flesh under his hands was heavenly, fingers kneading into the soft squish of your thighs as he speared his tongue into you.

If he stretched his fingers far enough, one hand could press both your legs back and free the other to explore you. It was too tempting to pet your pretty asshole with the calloused pad of his thumb, a self-satisfied groan pulling out of him at the sound of your squeal.

You gushed on his tongue.

He smiled into your pussy, teeth lightly nudging the swollen bud of your clit for a moment before he dove back in with his tongue. You kept trying to move, legs straining against the width of his hand as you twisted your sweater in your fingers.

A mix of slick and his saliva dripped down from your soaked cunt, pooling against his thumb as it circled the tight ring of muscle. The unhinged part of him wanted to force your legs so far back so the small of your spine lifted off the seat, opening you up so he could press his mouth between your cheeks. The thought of how you’d cry out made him groan against you.

But he left that for another day, part of his grand apology to you in the future.  

Simon’s jaw ached, mouth open and tongue fucking into you. The way you cried made him keep going, he wanted to keep hearing you. The tight sound of your whining devolved into something delightfully wet and raw, the little hitches of your breath and hiccups told him that you were crying.

Satisfied with how much he stretched you on your tongue, he pressed his index and middle fingers into your sodden cunt. The feel of you squeezing his fingers made him moan, his mouth moving upward to suckle at your clit. 

He was desperate to make you come, wanted to feel you falling apart on his fingers and tongue so he could put you back together.

You whimpered as Simon’s bicep tensed, making his fingers vibrate inside you. He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. It was almost hard to focus, his cock so hard that it ached as he devoured you like a starving man.

“Simon,” you breathed, your voice sounding wet as you spoke, “m’gonna come.”

If there was a way to increase his efforts, he did. He twisted his fingers inside of you as they plunged back and forth, rubbing along every ridge inside you as your cunt clutched at him. He was almost frantic, tongue swirling over your clit in firm circles as his dark eyes squeezed shut.

You moaned, legs trembling against the restraint of his hand as you made needy little noises. He felt lightheaded, starving as the wet squelch of his fingers pressing your gummy walls filled his ears.

Then your breaths heaved, a gasp of his name escaping your lips as your body pulled taut like a bow. Simon didn’t relent, drinking down the sweet nectar of your slick. He was so greedy, not letting a drop escape at the expense of your sensitivity as your orgasm rocked through your body.

He didn’t pull away despite the desperation in your whines and grunted curses, curling his fingers into your spongey pussy and lapping at your clit with his flattened tongue. You were so tight that it felt like you would take his fingers clean off, your pussy pulling him in. 

The way you sobbed was pure sin, legs kicking desperately against his hold.

Your back broke on a cry, arching off the leather seat as you came for a second time. He could feel you clumsily reaching for him, pushing him away from your oversensitive cunt as you whimpered. 

Simon acquiesced, pulling away as he licked his lips. 

Pride surged through him as he partially sat up, letting your legs go. You looked absolutely wrecked, eyes hazy and tears streaked down your cheeks. Your chest was heaving beneath your sweater as you looked up at the ceiling of the car.  

He palmed his hard cock through his jeans, grunting softly at the much-needed friction. He had to get a hold of himself before he begged to fuck you out here in his car like a teenager.

“My god,” you sighed, wiping a hand over your face as you looked up at the roof. Your eyes were wide and hazy, stroking Simon’s ego.

A big paw of a hand rubbed up and down your thigh, moving from hip to where your leggings were still tangled around your knees. “S’my apology accepted?” Simon asked, his voice thick as he took deep breaths.

You giggled, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could properly look at him. Your eyes were almost black with arousal, your pupils spread so wide they looked like drops of ink in water. “Yeah, I think it was a pretty thorough one,” you teased, a smirk on your face as you lightly shoved his shoulder.

It took you a few more minutes to gather yourself, even breaths returning to your body as you slowly sat up again. You managed to maneuver your leggings back on, reaching over the seat for your overstuffed backpack. 

“So a proper date, right?” you asked, glancing down at the bulge at the front of his jeans before you looked back up at him. He expected no less from you, your stubbornness making him want to kiss you.

He nodded, swallowing thickly as he tried to formulate a response. “Yeah, doll. I can take you to dinner tomorrow–seven o’clock?”

You’re nodding and kissing his cheek before he could react. You opened the passenger side door, a blast of cool air hitting him like a jolt of electricity as he straightened up.

“See you tomorrow, Simon!” you chirped brightly as though you hadn’t just been bent in half in the back seat of his car, the door slamming shut behind you as you jogged up the walk and disappeared into your flat.

Simon chuckled to himself, shamelessly smelling his slick-soaked fingers as he wrestled himself into a sitting position in the back seat. His head rolled back against the headrest, dark eyes focused on the ceiling as he laughed in earnest for the first time in a while. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt excited at the concept of another day, but he already found himself counting down the minutes until tomorrow.

[sophie-looks-at-things]

Hi love! I hope you are doing well ☺️

If possible could I request a Aemond X reader? Maybe something where he takes notice of a hobby reader likes and surprises them with something related to it?

Piece de Resistance

Pairing: Aemond x Wife Reader

Summary: Aemond stumbles upon your love for the arts, painting, drawing, sketching, and the like. <3

Warnings: none I don't think, Aemond being a cute and supportive husband. a good moment of domesticity :)

AN: Hello! I absolutely love this request! I hope I did it justice haha. Thank you so much for submitting it! The picture is from Pinterest! It's St Augustine by Philippe de Champaigne.

It wasn’t often you got a moment to yourself nowadays. With your husband acting as Prince Regent in his brother’s absence, you and he both were kept rather busy. Him with the Small Council and issues of the realm, you with the petty social gossipings and happenings of the Court. So rare moments of peace and quiet like this were highly coveted.

Your marital chambers echoed with emptiness as you entered and looked around. The curtains you had chosen fluttered in the breeze. Aemond had not wanted them, but ultimately he conceded, never being able to say no to you. 

He must be in a Small Council meeting, you thought. Or perhaps training with Ser Criston, letting off some steam. Your husband seemed to have an ever-constant knot of stress in his shoulders and neck. You’d tried to massage it out many a time, but it never seemed to budge, or it ended in a much different sort of activity –

Under your armoire, lay a dusty, maroon-red box. You bent down, moving to pull it out of its little hiding spot. You had snuck it under there after you had moved into Aemond’s chambers. The day after your wedding. Aemond had insisted that you move to his quarters as soon as possible. He didn’t like being separated from you more than necessary. If he could, he would have you seated on his lap in Small Council meetings or even when he sat on the Iron Throne. But alas, that was a touch too far, and people would talk. As they always do –

Your husband was kind and dotting, if not overprotective and possessive of you. You had known one another since you were children. Your house and family coming to visit the Court, your mother and the dowager Queen had been friends since their youth. They had hoped that you and Aemond would get along well, and you did, famously so. When he had lost his eye, you had come to the Red Keep, to offer him comfort and company. You had never left after that. 

Your fingertips graze over the top of the box, as you rest it on top of your bed sheets. Leaving an empty trail in their wake. The lock lay rusted and golden on the front, pulling a small key from the pocket of your skirt, you unlock it. A small, soft resounding click bounced off the walls. As you gingerly opened the lid, the stale smell of linseed oil filled your nostrils. Small metal tubes of colorful paint lay untouched in the box. Clean bristles and dirty brush handles scattered about, small rolls of blank canvas. All of which lay, unmoved, unbothered, from the last time you had used them. 

When you were little, you had complained to your mother once about the bore of your lessons. For your tenth name day, she had brought in a painter from Highgarden to tutor you. He had taught you how to mix colors and paint the prettiest flowers. As you grew older, he taught you more complicated things, like ladies in bushy skirts, and golden dragons in the sky. An odd prophecy of your future.

Taking some basic colors, red, blue, yellow, and white, some brushes, and a small roll of canvas, you set up shop at your dressing table. For the time being, altering it into a makeshift desk. Deciding to paint what you knew best, you began to sketch out a dragon among roses, with some charcoal that you had borrowed from Aemond.

He wouldn’t miss it, you thought. He had a small goblet full of charcoal and quills, hiding amongst the piles of books and scrolls on the table. Which he used to plot his war games, or occasionally take dinner with you. When you both grew tired of his family and their bickering. 

The dragon began to take form on the canvas, it looked slightly like Vhagar, large, old, and wrinkly. Her age showing in her face and eyes. Around her, you drew roses, peonies, daffodils, lavender, a great colorful bouquet. Once you had begun mixing the paints, on a makeshift pallet made of spare parchment paper. The other sounds of the world seemed to fade away, the monotony of the act being therapeutic. A much-desired mindless activity in the middle of the war you all found yourself in. You would never voice this to anyone, but it was silly to you. The hubris and hypocrisy of your husband's family was vast and great, and deadly at the worst. The blood of the dragon ran thick and hot, volatile and dangerous. 

You had become so absorbed in your work that you hadn’t heard the door open, the faint call of your name. Lost on the wind perhaps. Aemond stood, leaning a shoulder against the door frame, a small smile playing at his lips, watching you, intently. He knew and had seen you become absorbed like this in a book or some piece of writing, but he had never seen you do this before. Paint.

The colorful oils stain your fingertips and wedge themselves beneath your nails. The same stale smell of the linseed oil met his nostrils.

 An odd sort of smell, he thought. He crept a bit closer, as close as possible not yet wanting you to know he was there. He silently rested his sword on the bed, the sheets muffling any noise it may have made. You were humming softly to yourself. An old hymn your mother used to sing to you. 

As he crept closer, Aemond could make out the picture you were working on. The colors came to life before his eyes, the eyes of his dragon staring back at him. 

“Gevie (beautiful)” He muttered, under his breath.

Startled, you jumped a bit, smudging one of the petals on the peony you were working on. “Shit” you breathed out.

“Aemond, Husband, I had not heard you come in!” You stand, turning to face him, stepping in front of your work as if to hide it.

Aemond chuckled a bit, noticing the pink tinge to your cheeks, embarrassed at being caught. He lifted an eyebrow, and gestured to the painting behind you, 

“May I see it?” He asked, his gaze meeting your own. After a slight pause, you stepped aside. Aemond walked past you, placing a loving hand on your waist, holding you to him slightly. Aemond has developed a habit of always having a hand on you, as if scared you were going to be snatched away, stolen from him. 

Again, he muttered a “Gevie” under his breath. He turned to look at you, your face twisted in anticipation of what he may think. You had hidden the hobby from him not out of malice, but rather out of embarrassment. Other ladies and some lords of the court had mentioned that painting was a poor man's job and that someone of “noble blood” needn’t concern themselves with such silly things. You had been worried that he would have agreed with them, not liking it. 

“I didn’t know you painted. This is lovely,” The hand on your waist moved to tuck a stray tendril of hair behind your ear, it had fallen loose from your braids. 

“I was afraid you would disapprove –” 

“Why on earth would I disapprove my love? This is beautiful, you have a talent”. Your cheeks turned impossibly more pink at his praise and approval. 

“Actually, I would like it very much if you were to paint something on my sword. Vhagar perhaps –” He trailed off thinking, “Or maybe the seas or those flowers are quite lovely too–” You had placed a finger over his lips, laughing. Aemond stopped talking, kissing the digit instead. 

“Yes husband, I would love nothing more,” Your smile matched Aemond’s from before. 

“I would like to show it off–” He murmured against your finger, kissing it again. You moved your hand to his cheek, cupping it lovingly. This small moment of domestic bliss was needed, for the both of you. 

“Well then, go and fetch it, and I shall get to work,” With the excitement of a little boy, your husband retrieved his sword from the bed, unsheathing it, placing it on the desk in front of you. The previous painting moved to the windowsill, to dry. Aemond pulled up a chair, sitting beside you. 

He rested his elbow on the corner of the table, chin in palm. The only free spot on the table, not littered with paints and brushes. You began to work, and he watched you, with nothing but love and admiration in his eye. He could sit here, happily, forever, watching you work, with the setting sun twinkling on the ocean water outside of the windows. Your delicate hands painted the hard metal of his sword. He would let you paint the whole damn keep if it made you happy. And now, with the conqueror's crown resting upon his brow, maybe he would –

Tag List:

@helaenaluvr  @anukulee   @stuckinaf4nfiction

@darylandbethfanforever9

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x mafia!fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex

Summary: Bad girl, good guy.

A/N: Requested by @shadofireshinobi! Thank you. love!!

Not Edited

Fuck, it's cold.

Miguel shrugs up the large bubble jacket higher up his body, the warm material meeting his chin as he turns into the narrow alleyway. His head is ducked down, yet white puffs of breath appear in front of his face. He sniffles as he looks behind his shoulder, the street lights getting dimmer the further he goes. He looks forward again with a sigh, stopping in the middle of the alleyway.

It's quiet. There aren't even any cars on the main road behind him. He can hear the dripping of water from earlier rain as it hits the ground, echoing against the brick walls. He looks up the walls, not spotting anything in the darkness, even with his enhanced senses. He shivers, shrugging in his jacket again. His lips thin, and he turns back around to the alley's entrance.

He doesn't get very far.

"Are you lost?"

The voice is silky smooth, and he can feel a pleasant feeling vibrate up his spine. He turns slightly, his head tilting up. She stands right above him on a creaky fire escape. He isn't sure how he didn't hear her, but he isn't surprised either. He turns fully to face her, his heart bounding.

"Yeah, think you can help me?"

He can hear her amused chuckle, watching her shadowed silhouette. She walks towards the end of the fire escape, a large groan sounding before rusted clicks fill the small space as the ladder falls. Miguel walks over, climbing it easily. She's waiting at the top for him, and he pauses to look up at her. A gust of wind blows, making her hair and nightgown sway. It makes Miguel's mouth dry and he swallows.

"I thought I told you not to wear that here."

Her voice disrupts his thoughts, and he huffs as he finally stands in front of her.

"Just got off duty." He says, shoving his hands in his pocket. "It's a bit cold to be wearing that out here."

He nods at her outfit, the end of his chin pointed at her. She rolls her eyes, her hand leaning on the railing as her hip juts out.

"It won't get me killed." She says in distaste, her eyes scanning his visible suit to signify the meaning of her words.

He chuckles at that, knowing how right she is. She pushes past him, going to the open window. She slips in, and Miguel bends down to follow her in. It's much warmer in the small apartment. It's not technically her's, just a small place she rents for these meet ups. The money she spends on it gets lost in the expenses of her shopping, but Miguel doesn't think her father or brothers would care too much if they found out she rents it. They would surely get mad if they found out why.

She closes the window behind him, and he takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around her. He leans down, trailing kisses along her shoulder as his hand slips to the edge of her dress. It ends up against her thigh, the soft skin melting into smooth silk and lace. She hums as she moves her head to the side, giving him room to explore her neck. His teeth nip lightly over where her pulse is, causing a pleased sigh to escape her lips.

"Missed you," He mumbles against her skin, his hand slipping under her dress.

His hand skims over her thighs and up to her stomach, resting against the warm skin. Her hand lands over his on the fabric, her body pushing back against his own. Her other hand finds it's way into his hair, pulling his head slightly so their face to face.

"Don't be cute." She smiles teasingly, "Don't think I didn't see you on that rooftop two days ago."

His cheeks flush at the mention. He wasn't trying to follow her, he just happened to stumble upon the scene. He didn't know all that noise was her and her brothers dealing with... business. But, it was good business! Honestly, the world could do without two corrupt CEOs. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Her nose bumps against his, and his eyes dart down to her lips. She has that pretty lipstick that he gifted her a few visits ago on, and he subconsciously licks his lips. Her smile widens, leaning forward to kiss him. He instantly moans, closing his eyes and holding her tighter. He only lets up when she moves to turn, wrapping both of her hands around his neck as the kiss deepens.

He almost trips when she makes him move backwards, walking him until the back of his legs hit the edge of the couch as he throws his coat to the floor. He collapses heavily onto it, tearing the two apart, He looks up at her as she goes to straddle his lap, his hands gripping her waist. She flips her hair to the side, smiling down at him before she leans down to his neck. He groans softly as he tilts his head back, his eyes closing as her lips suck and kiss at his neck. His brows furrow in a silent moan as she grinds against his already hard cock.

Even if his hands weren't under her dress before, he can feel the fact that she was no panties on. The warm mound of her heat rubs against the technological material of his suit, his hips bucking up to meet her moves. She giggles against his neck, pulling away as his lashes flutter open. He has that silly, hypnotized look on his face. She can't help but smirk down at him, the silly little spider that's absolutely smitten with her.

She cups his cheek, stroking the slightly stubble-graced skin. He leans into her touch, eyes practically glowing with hearts as he looks up at her.

"Get rid of the suit, Miggy." You whisper down at him, biting your lip as he gives you a small nod that turns into enthusiastic nodding as your words click.

It recedes in seconds, and both you and Miguel moan as his weeping tip just barely skims over your folds. His eyes drop down, huffing when the ends of your dress block his view. You smile slightly at the pout on his face, your hands slowly grabbing at the ends of your dress as your bring it up to your waist. The second your pretty pussy is revealed to him, Miguel's breath catches.

It rushes out of him instantly when you slowly sink down on him, a choked moan parting from his lips as your warmth pulsates around him. His hands grip your thighs tights, his eyes snapping up to your face. You're looking down at where you two meet, but you meet his eyes once you feel them on you. You smile lazily at him, smirking when his face contorts as you begin bouncing on his cock.

His mouth drops open in breathless moans, his eyes dreamy as he studies your face. You bite your lip as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, your own moan filling the room. Miguel whimpers up at you as you clench around his cock, eyes rolling back with a groan as you buck your hips. You giggle at how easily it is to make him go crazy, leaning down to quite him down with a kiss.

He hums against your lips, eagerly returning the kiss as he squeezes your thighs tights. You can feel that pleasant burn of an orgasm forming in the bit of your stomach, and your trail your hands down until they land on top of his. You silently move his hands up to your waist, and he makes quick work of bouncing you on his dick, already used to the silent command. You moan against his lips, pulling away and throwing your head back as your hands land on his shoulders in support.

A pleased gasp leaves you as you feel Miguel's warm mouth wrap around your nipple through the silk, a desperate noise leaving him. He can feel your walls tightening around him, and he sucks harder on your covered nipple to distract himself from the twitching of his cock. He wants- needs- you to come first, his hips hammering up into you. You're surprised your lip isn't bleeding from how hard you're biting down on it, but it finds relief when the band inside of you snaps.

A loud moan is directed at the ceiling as you come, your pussy clamping down on him as he stills. He pants out your name as he spills inside of you, the feeling dizzying. You giggle at the fucked out look on his face, gently easing yourself off of him. He leans his head against the back of the couch, taking his time in catching his breath. You hover just over his lap, pushing the hair out of his face with a smile.

You have him right where your family wants him.

[asphaltsugar]

mechanic!daryl dixon x reader

extras: just some staring from the reader; set pre-apocalypse/alternate universe; no use of y/n

Sweat ran from the curve of his shoulders to the dips in his arms, the shine a lure to the oil blotted at his knuckles and under his bitten nails. The silver of your engine glinted back into irises of blue; they narrowed as he leaned his front half underneath the hood, a slow stream of smoke curling from between his lips.

“Shouldn’t take t’long.” He didn’t meet your eyes, words a statement to the work in front of him and yourself, seated against the wall. “You can wait if y’want.”

He kept the doors to the shop open, summer heat peering into the interior and sticking to your clothing, his hair, the leather of your seat. Guitar scratched from an old radio set on a table; near it, tools stained and some rusted, dents cupping the coloring as if to prove their worth. You nodded, crossing your legs and briefly focusing on the rhythmic ticking of the clock overhead.

The shop smelled of smooth smoke rising, subservient to the ceiling fan, bronze chains knocking into each other in tandem with the blades, and bitter oil. It wasn’t anything obtrusive, the smoke being blown away from where you sat—the rest was familiar. A local work, the walls had seen you grow up, stared with irony now that he was fixing your car and not yourself; truth be told, you simply did not feel like digging into the tight turns, the heat having irritated your skin since the morning.

Besides, meeting the new employee wouldn’t hurt. He was only there for a few weeks, a regular told you, acting as a substitute for one of the older men—he thought the push of your brows at the name you’d never heard was amusing enough.

It was quiet as he worked. A few others chatted and laughed in the break room a few doors down. Whatever song was playing on the radio buzzed on, sharp guitar and quick percussion. He only hummed every so often with the cigarette in his lips, a rhetorical to the work at his hands.

Any attempt to make friendly talk died at the tip of your tongue after you had simply introduced yourself and he, too, upon walking in—he had asked with a low timbre what the issue was, and nodded at your explanation. He didn’t seem to be much of a conversationalist anyhow; best not to pry as a first impression.

So there you sat, tip of your shoe parroting the rhythm to the song now fading into a voice announcing the next.

Apparently he was good at what he did. He looked good doing it, too.

[cl0udy3]

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

ellie williams x f1 obsessed!reader fluff ; bonus smut at the end wc: 5206 a/n: yall already know i needed to write for new favorite wife i love her

When you were younger, before you were trusted to carry a gun on patrol, Tommy would let you tag along with him. It was mostly for fun—an excuse to get you out of Jackson for a while, to stretch your legs, to let you see a little more of the world without throwing you straight into danger.

He never really expected you to be much help. You were too small to fight off and expected, too inexperienced to make real calls. So, instead of treating it like work, Tommy let you wander.

“Go on,” he’d say with a lazy wave of his hand whenever you entered an abandoned town. “Ain’t nothin’ much for you to do ‘sides keeping me company.”

That’s how it all started.

You weren’t looking for anything in particular that day- just nosing around an old strip mall, poking at whatever had been left behind. The storefronts were mostly empty, their shelves looted long ago, but one tiny shop had remained surprisingly untouched. A bookstore.

You stepped inside, the scent of old paper and dust thick in the air. Most of the good stuff had probably been taken already, but as you traced your fingers along the forgotten spines, something caught your eye.

A magazine.

At first, it didn’t seem all that special. Just a glossy cover with a bright red car on the front, sleek and low to the ground. The only thing you really noticed was the emblem—a small black horse rearing up on its hind legs against a yellow shield.

Scuderia Ferrari: F1 2013

You hadn’t cared much about cars back then. Hell, you had barely even thought about them. They were just hunks of metal rotting on the side of the road, things people used to drive before the world went to shit. But there was something about this magazine that made you pause. 

Maybe it was the color. That striking, unmistakable Ferrari red. 

Or maybe it was just curiosity.

Either way, you slipped it into your backpack, figuring it’d give you something to read when you got bored.

That night, back in Jackson, you finally cracked open the magazine. 

It started off simple. You skimmed through the pages, mostly looking at the pictures. The cars were gorgeous—not like the rusted-out trucks you were used to seeing on patrol, but smooth, refined machines built for speed. They look fast. Even standing still, they had an energy to them, like they were barely contained, ready to burst forward at any second.

And then, somewhere along the way, the words started to hook you.

You read about aerodynamics, about how every inch of the car was designed to cut through the air like a knife. About the front and rear wings, how they created downforce to keep the car pinned to the track at ridiculous speeds. About the tires—soft, medium, hard compounds—how they degraded over time, forcing teams to make strategic pit stops.

You learned about the drivers—Fernando Alonso and Felipe Massa, the two men piloting the Ferrari that season. About how Alonso was a two-time world champion, a relentless competitor always looking for an edge. About Massa, the loyal number two, still carrying scars of his 209 crash in Hungary.

You learned about the rivalries—Ferrari versus Red Bull, Alonso versus Vettel. You read about the DRS zones, the ERS systems, the KERS boost that gaze drivers an extra surge of power down the straights.

And suddenly, you weren’t just reading.

You were obsessing.

Something in you clicked.

You flipped through the pages again, this time paying attention to every little detail. You read into the margins, absorbing everything—engine specifications, weight distribution, tire degradation rates. You memorized track layouts, imagined what it must have felt like to take a corner at 200 miles per hour, the g-forces pressing down on your body.

It was like unlocking a part of yourself you never even knew existed. 

And from that moment on, you weren’t just interested. You were hooked.

---

When Ellie first arrived in Jackson, she wasn’t expecting much.

Sure, Joel had told her it was safe, that she’d have food, a bed, a place to belong—but she wasn’t convinced. The world had taught her not to trust in good things.

Then she met you.

And suddenly, she had a lot to process.

The first time she saw you, you were sitting on a fence, kicking your feet idly against the wood, nose buried deep in a magazine. You weren’t on patrol, weren’t doing chores—just sitting there, completely lost in whatever you were reading.

Tommy was the one who introduced you.

“This here’s Ellie,” he said, nodding toward the girl beside him. “Figured you two oughta meet.”

You looked up, eyes flicking over Ellie for maybe half a second before immediately returning to your magazine.

“Hey,” you said absently.

Ellie blinked. Okay, cool. Guess I don’t exist.

Tommy gave you a look. “Could at least pretend to be friendly, kid.”

That made you glance up again, finally really looking at Ellie. And for the first time, she saw it.

The spark of excitement. The kind of energy that meant you were about to go off about something.

Ellie had no idea what she was in for.

“Oh, you’re new here, huh?” you asked, suddenly snapping your magazine shut. “Do you know anything about Formula 1?”

Ellie hesitated. “....Like. The number?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “No, no, no—Formula 1. The sport. The fastest racing series in the world. The absolute pinnacle of motorsport. The only thing keeping me sane in this hellscape.”

Ellie blinked. “Oh. Uh. No.”

Big mistake.

Huge.

Before she could even register what was happening, you launched into a full-on rant, your entire body coming alive with energy.

“Okay, okay, so listen—back before everything went to shit, people used to race cars. Not like, dumb little street races, but actual, high-tech, scientifically engineered machines designed to go insanely fast. I’m talking like—200 miles per hour, insane.”

Ellie barely had time to nod before you continued.

“They had these things called DRS zones, which basically let them open a flap in the rear wing to reduce drag and go even faster. And pit stops—oh my god, Ellie, you would not believe how fast those things were. Like, two seconds. They’d change all four tires in less time than it takes for me to process my own emotions.

Ellie stared.

Tommy sighed. “And now you’ve done it.”

But you were unstoppable.

“There were teams—Ferrari, Mercedes, Red Bull–and drivers, absolute legends, Ellie. Micheal Schumacher? Genuine. Sebastian Vettel? DOMINANT. And don’t even get me started on Fernando Alonso, that man was driving the wheels off his car even when it was absolute piece of shit—”

Ellie had never seen anyone talk so fast.

Or with so much passion.

She had no clue what the hell you were going on about, but you were practically vibrating with energy, and for some reason, she didn’t want you to stop.

Maybe it was because she had never seen anyone talk about something they loved like this before. Maybe it was because you weren’t treating her like some broken survivor, just another kid who had seen too much too soon.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was because Ellie Williams was already, unknowingly, screwed.

After that, you and Ellie became friends.

And by “friends,” that meant Ellie spent approximately 90% of her time listening to you ramble about F1.

At first, she just humored you. But then it became a daily thing. And then it became… kinda cute?

Not that she’d ever admit it.

She’d be helping Maria stack supplies, and you’d come running up like: 

“Ellie, you are NOT gonna believe what I just found—”

“Lemme guess. Another car magazine?”

“YES! But this one has a breakdown of the entire 2013 Red BUll aerodynamics package—Ellie, they literally perfected the blown diffuser, and don’t even get me started ont he rear suspension geometry—”

And Ellie?

Ellie just… sat there.

And listened.

And watched you, really watched you—how your face lit up, how your hands moved when you explained something technical, how your eyes practically glowed whenever you talked about your favorite cars.

---

The more you read about F1, the more you wanted to talk about it. 

It wasn’t enough to just memorize the track layouts or understand the difference between turbo-hydrated and naturally aspirated engines. You wanted to hear about it—to know what it was really like when the world still had race weekends, packed grandstands, and the deafening roar of a V8 engine at full throttle.

And there were only two people in Jackson old enough to have really experienced it.

Joel and Tommy.

The first time you brought it up, it was casual—just an offhand question while you sat on Tommy’s porch, flipping through a fading 2013 race program. He had been cleaning one of his rifles, but at the mention of F1, he paused, a slow smirk creeping onto his face.

“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time,” he mused, setting the gun down.

You perked up. “Wait—you know about it?”

Tommy chuckled. “Hell yeah, I do. Used to watch it with Joel back before the world went to hell. Wasn’t, y’know, obsessed like you are, but I knew enough.”

Your heart pounded. “Did you ever go to a race?”

Tommy grinned, leaning back in his chair. “You actually. Austin.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. “You went to COTA?!”

Tommy barked out a laugh. “Shit, kid, relax before you pass out. Yeah, me and Joel went. Must’ve been… what, 2012? Maybe 2013? First time the U.S. had a real Grand Prix in years. We figured—what the hell, might as well see what all the fuss was about.”

You leaned in, eyes wide. “What was it like?”

Tommy sighed, his expression softening. “Man… it was somethin’ else. Big ass crowd, people everywhere, all decked out in their team colors. Whole place smelled like barbecue and gasoline. And the sound—” He whistled, shaking his head. “---that first time those engines fired up? Felt it right in my fuckin’ chest. Loudest damn thing I ever heard.”

You could barely contain yourself. “Who won? Do you remember?” “Some German kid. Vettel, I think?”

You gasped. “Sebastian Vettel! Oh my god, Tommy, you saw him win?! That was the year he took his fourth championship!”

Tommy chuckled at your excitement. “Yeah, yeah, I remember now. Red Bull car, purple thing with the big ol’ charging bull on the side. He ran away with it—nobody could catch him.”

You grinned like a maniac. “Did you see Alonso?”

Tommy thought for a moment. “Yeah, he was there. Ferrari, right? I remember their fans goin’ crazy every time one of those red cars passed by. Never seen a fanbase like that—felt like a damn cult.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the Tifosi for you.”

At that moment, Joel stepped in, his boots thudding on the old tile floor. He glanced between you and Tommy, raising an eyebrow. “What’s all the excitement about?”

Tommy smirked. “Kid’s askin’ about F1.”

Joel let out a short chuckle, settling onto the porch railing. “Ah, hell. That takes me back.”

You turned to him eagerly. “You also watched?”

Joel shrugged. “Here and there. Tommy was more into it than I was.”

Tommy scoffed. “Bullshit. You were yellin’ at the TV just as much as me.”

Joel smirked but didn’t deny it.

“You should’ve heard it, kid,” Tommy said, shaking his head. “Nothin’ like it. That sound—felt like the whole damn air was vibratin’.”

Joel, surprisingly, looked a little wistful. “Back then, they still had the V8s. Those things screamed down the straights.”

You exhaled through your nose. “I would kill to hear a real F1 car.”

Tommy grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Y’know, kid, if the world hadn’t gone to shit, I bet you’d be one of those engineers in the pit lane, tellin’ the drivers how to shave a tenth off their lap times.”

Joel nodded. “Or one of those commentators who never shuts up about tire strategy.”

You gasped, putting a hand over your heart. “Excuse you, Joel, tire strategy is very important.”

A small silence settled in. Joel sipped his coffee, Tommy went back to cleaning his rifle, and you had moved to the living room to sit on something more comfortable.

You were still flipping through the magazine when you felt a presence behind you. You glanced up to see Ellie standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows drawn together like she was trying to solve some impossible equation.

“So… you seriously just read about cars all day?” she asked, tilting her head.

You rolled your eyes, shutting the magazine with a dramatic thud. “Not just cars. F1. There’s a difference.”

“Right. A very important difference.” Ellie nodded like she totally understood, but the slight smirk on her lips gave her away.

You ignored it, flipping the magazine open again. “This isn’t just some random sport, Ellie. It’s like—like the most technical, high-speed, absolutely insane thing humans have ever come up with. The engineering is insane. The speed. The strategy. The—”

“Yeah, okay, I got it,” Ellie interrupted, laughing under her breath. But she didn’t leave. She just stood there, watching as you traced your fingers over a grainy old photo of a bright red Ferrari.

“D’you actually like this stuff, or are you just hoarding magazines for the hell of it?” she teased.

You turned to her, completely serious. “Ellie. I would trade a kidney to drive one of these.”

Ellie snorted. “Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind if I ever need a transplant.”

A few days later, you and Ellie were out on patrol together, the snowy trees of Jackson blurring past as your horses trotted along the trail.

You were, as usual, talking about cars.

“...and it’s crazy because in the 2013 season, Red Bull had that blown diffuser setup, which basically meant—”

Ellie cut you off with a lazy grin. “Okay, okay, hold on. If you had to put me in one of these fancy F1 cars, you think I’d be any good?”

You scoffed. “Ellie, you ride your horse like an old man with a bad hip.”

Ellie gasped in mock offense. “Wow. Rude.”

You grinned. “You’d probably stall the car five times before even leaving the pit lane.”

Ellie shot you a look. Then, with an air of forced nonchalance, she muttered, “Yeah? Well, maybe you should, y’know… teach me sometime.”

Silence.

You blinked. Did… Ellie just flirt with you?

Ellie immediately cleared her throat, shifting in her saddle like she suddenly wanted to throw herself off the horse. “I—I mean, not that you have to, just, uh—”

You squinted at her. “Are you okay?”

Ellie groaned. “Never mind. Forget it.”

There was a long pause. 

Then, Ellie tried again. 

“You know,” she started, clearly forcing the words out, “If, uh, if you really think I’d be bad at driving, maybe you should, uhm… hold my hands on the wheel or something. While I learn.”

Your brows furrowed.”Ellie… you do realize we don’t have an F1 car, right?”

Ellie’s entire soul left her body.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

You just kept looking at her, confused. “You’d need a simulator first, honestly. There’ no way you could handle the G-forces right away—”

Ellie sighed loudly. “Yeah, okay, got it. I suck.”

Somewhere, back in Jackson, Dina probably felt a disturbance in the force.

Later that day, Ellie tried again.

You were sitting on the front steps of your house when Ellie approached, hands shoved in her pockets. She rocked back on her heels.

“So,” she said, clearing her throat, “I was thinking about, uh, aerodynamics.”

You looked up. “Oh?”

Ellie nodded. “Yeah. And like… if you had a really fast card. And, uh, you wanted to go faster. You’d want to, um…” She scratched the back of her neck. “Get rid of some drag, right?”

You smiled. “Exactly! Less drag, more speed.”

Ellie pointed at you. “Right! Right. So… you should totally, um… drag me to dinner sometime.”

Silence.

Ellie blinked. “Wait. That made no sense.”

You blinked.

Ellie immediately turned and left. “Forget I said anything.”

---

You were lounging on the couch in Tommy’s place, flipping through the same battered F1 magazine for the hundredth time. You’d heard the door open and stay open, followed by the sound of snow boots. You thought it was Tommy, until something landed in your lap with a soft thud.

You blinked down at it—another magazine, just as worn, the edges curling with age. The cover was barely legible, but your eyes caught the unmistakable silhouette of a Formula 1 car.

“Figured you’d want that,” Ellie muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets. She wasn’t even looking at you, just rocking on her heels like she hadn’t just gifted you the best thing ever.

Your heart did something weird.

“Where the hell did you find this?” you breathed, already flipping through the pages with greedy fingers.

“Patrol,” Ellie said simply. “Saw it in some old shop and, y’know… figured you’d like it or whatever.”

“Ellie.” You turned to her, dead serious. “If the world hadn’t ended, I would marry you on the spot.”

Ellie choked. “Uh—what?”

“Nothing.” You smirked, holding the magazine to your chest like it was the most valuable thing in the world. “Just saying, you keep bringing me stuff like this, and I might start thinking you’re in love with me or something.”

Ellie scoffed, cheeks a little pink. “Shut up.”

Jesse, who had been watching from across the room, let out a low whistle. “Damn, Ellie, you really out here romancing her with scraps of old paper, huh?”

“Dude, shut up,” Ellie groaned, chucking a pillow at him. But even as she rolled her eyes, she didn’t deny it.

---

Ellie’s pathetic attempts at flirting had gone on for weeks. Dina had witnessed all of them. So had Jesse. And quite frankly, both of them were done.

So, naturally, an intervention was in order.

It started at the Tipsy Bison one evening. You, Ellie, Dina, and Jesse were at your usual table, the dim glow of lanterns flickering against the old wooden walls.

You were, as usual, rambling about F1.

“Listen, the reason Senna was so damn good in the rain was because of his throttle control. You can literally see it in onboard footage—he’d feathering the pedal like an artist—”

Ellie was watching you with that look again. That soft, fascinated look that Dina had had enough of.

Dina dramatically set down her drink. “Okay. I can’t do this anymore.”

You pause mid-ramble. “Huh?”

Jesse leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “She means you two.”

Ellie stiffened. “What about us?”

Dina gestured wildly between you. “This. This thing you guys have been doing. Ellie, you flirt like a drunk deer on ice, and you—” she turned to you, exasperated. “You’re so obsessed with F1 that you can’t see that your biggest fangirl is literally sitting right next to you.”

Ellie choked on her drink. “I—what—no, I—”

Jesse sighed. “Look, we’ve seen it for months. Ellie brings you random car magazines like she’d a goddamn raccoon hoarding trash. She pretends to care about tire strategies just to impress you. And you—” he pointed at you—”literally melt on the floor every time she talks, but you just keep info-dumping instead of making a move.”

You stared at him. “First of all, rude.”

Ellie, looking like she wanted to sink into the floor, muttered. “Second of all, not true.”

Dina rolled her eyes. “Oh, really?” Then, Ellie, what was that absolute disaster of a line you used last week?”

Jesse smirked. “Ohhh, yeah. The ‘drag me to dinner’ one?”

Ellie groaned, shoving her face into her hands. “Kill me.”

You, blinking in realization, turned to Ellie. “Wait, that was flirting?”

Ellie lifted her head, incredulous. “Yes?!”

“I can’t watch this anymore,” Dina groaned, throwing her hands up dramatically.

Jesse nodded, arms crossed. “Yeah. This has been, what, months of you two making heart eyes at each other? I’m over it.”

“What—?” Ellie sputtered, looking between them like they had just accused her of murder. “I don’t—I mean, I—shut up.”

You furrowed your brows. “Wait, what’s happening?”

“This.” Dina shoved Ellie forward—hard.

Ellie barely caught herself before crashing into you, hands instinctively gripping your arms to steady herself. Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness, her face inches from yours.

“Uh—shit, okay—hi,” Ellie stammered, her hands twitching where they held you.

Your brain short-circuited. “Hi?”

Jesse sighed. “Oh my God.”

Ellie, still very much trapped in your space, licked her lips nervously. “So, uh. This is—this is dumb, but, like, I—I think I—” She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut for a second. “Fuck it.”

And then, before you could even process what was happening, she kissed you.

It wasn’t smooth or practiced—it was Ellie, which meant it was a little clumsy, a little desperate, but it was her, and your heart basically exploded.

When she finally pulled back, looking ridiculously embarrassed, she cleared her throat. “So. Uh. Yeah.”

“Wow,” you breathed, still kind of stunned. “That was… terrible.”

Ellie’s face burned. “What?!”

“I mean, not the kiss,” you laughed, resting a hand on her chest to calm her down. “Just—God, you really suck at this.”

Ellie groaned, burying her face in your shoulder. “I know.”

Dina grinned. “And yet, somehow, it worked.”

Jesse patted Ellie’s back. “Proud of you, dude.”

Ellie groaned louder.

---

Ellie was getting worse.

Before, she'd get you little "gifts" and try to be subtle about it. Magazines she claimed she just “found lying around,” posters she swore she “didn’t even mean to grab,” and the occasional keychain or sticker she totally didn’t spend twenty minutes digging through an abandoned gas station for.

But now?

Now that you were dating? She had no shame.

The first time you really noticed was when she returned from patrol one evening, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Okay,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Close your eyes.”

You, sitting on the couch, raised a brow. “Ellie, what—”

“Just do it.”

With a suspicious look, you obeyed. You felt her shove something into your hands—something leathery, rough—before whispering, “Okay. Open.”

You blinked your eyes open and looked down. 

It was a jacket. A Ferrari jacket.

Black, with red and yellow accents, the Scuderia Ferrari logo stitched on the chest. It was faded, a little worn, but the moment you recognized it, your heart stopped.

You gasped. “Ellie.”

She shoved her hands in her pockets, rocking back on her heels. “Cool, right?”

You ran your fingers over the embroidered prancing horse. “Where the fuck did you find this?”

Ellie grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Abandoned mall, buried under some old merch. Thought of you and, y’know, risked my life for it or whatever.”

You look up at her, wide-eyed. “Ellie.”

“What?” she asked, smirking.

“You’re so in love with me.”

Ellie groaned, immediately regretting all her life choices. “Shut up.”

You just smiled, slipping the jacket on. It was a little big, but warm. Cozy. Perfect. You tugged the sleeves over your hands, already knowing you’d never take it off.

Ellie eyes you, chewing her lip. “Oh? You into this, Williams?”

Ellie’s face burned. “Don’t do this.”

You got even closer. “I bet if I called you my little pit crew, you’d—”

Ellie grabbed your face and kissed you, effectively shutting you up.

Yeah. 

You were definitely keeping the jacket.

BONUS

The garage was quiet except for the occasional drip of water from a rusted pipe and the clinking of your tools. The old truck in front of you was a mess, but you were determined to fix it up, even if it meant spending hours crouched over the engine, fingers covered in grease. It was comforting, getting lost in something that actually made sense—gears, pistons, combustion, all of it had a function, a reason. Unlike the world outside.

You were just about to start pulling apart the carburetor when you heard the door creak open. You didn’t think much of it, assuming it was Tommy coming to check in.

“Uhh… hey.”

Ellie.

“Fuck!” Your head slammed into the hood of the car, sending a sharp jolt through your skull. You hissed, stumbling back, only to feel hands steady you from behind.

“Shit, you good?” Ellie winced, holding back a laugh.

You rubbed your forehead, turning to glare at her. “Jesus, Ellie—announce yourself next time! You can’t just sneak up on people working under a car!”

She smirked, rocking back on her heels. “Damn. Didn’t realize F1 mechanics were so jumpy.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the engine. “What do you want?”

Ellie leaned against the side of the car, watching you with that stupid little half-smile. “Just curious,” she drawled. “What’re you working on?”

“Trying to fix the starter motor,” you muttered, still focused on your hands. “If I can get this thing running, I might actually be able to—”

You sucked in a sharp breath as Ellie suddenly pressed up behind you, warm and solid. One hand casually braced against the hood above your head, the other slipping along the workbench beside you.

“Starter motor, huh?” Her voice was lower now, close to your ear. “That’s the thing that, uh… makes the car go?”

Your fingers fumbled. “Y-Yeah. It, uh—it converts electrical energy into mechanical motion—”

“Huh.” Ellie’s fingers trailed along your waist, featherlight. “And what’s this part?”

You swallowed hard. “The, uh—the alternator.”

“Mmm. And what does that do?”

She was teasing you. You knew it. But she wasn’t stopping—her hand slowly slipped lower, resting just above your hip, her fingers barely gripping the waistband of your jeans.

Your brain scrambled to function. “It, uh… it keeps the battery charged—”

Ellie hummed. “Damn, look at you. So smart.” Her fingers dipped just slightly under the fabric. “Keep going.”

You gripped the edge of the hood, knuckles white. “Ellie—”

“No, no, keep talking, babe,” she murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I like hearing you explain shit.”

“Ellie,” you tried again, voice tight. “I—this isn’t—”

“This isn’t what?” she murmured, lips grazing your jaw as her fingers played with the hem of your jeans. “Not helping?”

“Not helping,” you breathed, grip tightening on the car.

Ellie chuckled, her free hand coming up to your waist, toying with the fabric of your shirt. “Aw, c’mon. Thought you loved talking about this stuff.”

You shuddered as her fingers brushed against bare skin. “I do—”

“Then keep going.” She shifted just slightly, pressing herself against your back. You could feel the warmth of her, the steady rise and fall of her breathing. “Tell me what this part does.”

You looked down, barely registering the piece of the engine she was pointing at. Your brain was static.

“Ellie—”

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Her hand dipped lower, fingers ghosting over the waistband of your underwear. “I’m waiting.”

Your breath hitched, hands flexing uselessly at your sides. “I—I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” She kissed the side of your neck, smirking against your skin as she felt you tense up. “Think?”

You whined, barely nodding.

“Shame.” Her hand finally slipped into your jeans, fingers pressing just where you needed her. You gasped, head dropping forward as your knees nearly gave out.

“Ellie—fuck—”

“Language,” she teased, her pace agonizingly slow. “That how they talk in the pit lanes?”

You would’ve laughed if you weren’t actively fighting for your life. “I—please—”

“Mmm, that’s not an answer,” she murmured, pressing a little firmer. “Try again.”

You let out the most humiliating noise of your life. Ellie loved it.

“God,” she breathed, her own voice a little uneven now. “You’re so easy—”

“Ellie—”

She finally gave in, sliding two fingers in, pumping them in and out slowly. The only thing you could do was clutch onto the hood of the car for dear life as she worked you open.

“That’s it, baby,” she muttered, kissing along your shoulder. “Hold on for me.”

You were gone.

Ellie kept going, kept pushing you closer, whispering filth into your ear.

"Bet you wish I let you off easy, huh?" she murmured, her fingers only speeding up  as your thighs shook against her. "But you just had to be a little know-it-all—had to show off. Look at you now."

You whined, gripping the car so hard your knuckles turned white.

"C’mon," she teased, lips grazing your ear. "Tell me about the—fuck, listen to those little noises—tell me about the transmission again."

You tried—you really tried—but all that came out was a wrecked, gasping moan. Ellie laughed, breath hot against your neck.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

Her free hand snaked up under your shirt, palm flat against your stomach. "Y’know," she muttered, her pace quickening, "I was gonna stop if you couldn’t keep talking, but—fuck—you sound so pretty like this."

Your entire body shuddered.

"So desperate. So fucking dumb for me, huh?"

You whimpered, nodding frantically.

"God, you love this," she breathed, grinding against you now. "Love when I make it so fucking hard for you to think. You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna let me hear how bad you need me?"

You nodded frantically, gasping as Ellie’s fingers curled just right inside you, the heel of her palm pressing down in a way that had your stomach tensing, twisting.

"Words," she murmured, teasing, taunting, as if she wasn’t completely ruining you.

You tried—God, you tried—but all that came out was a wrecked whimper, your mouth falling open on a sound you’d never made before.

Ellie groaned, her lips brushing your ear. "Fuck, you sound so pretty."

She was everywhere—one hand gripping your waist, holding you up as your legs threatened to give out, the other working relentlessly between your thighs. The car’s hood dug into your palms, keeping you upright as she drove you closer and closer, pushing you right to the edge.

"C’mon, baby," she murmured, kissing along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. "Let go for me. Wanna feel you come on my fingers."

That did it—her voice, her touch, the pressure, the heat. Your body tensed, a sharp, choked sound escaping your lips as everything inside you snapped.

You came hard, your thighs clamping around her hand, your breath stuttering as white-hot pleasure surged through you. Ellie didn’t stop—she worked you through it, grinding against you, whispering the filthiest praise into your ear.

"That’s it, baby—fuck, that’s it—look at you, so perfect—so fucking good for me—"

Your head dropped back against her shoulder, breath coming in shaky gasps as she slowed her movements, coaxing every last bit of pleasure out of you until you were nothing but a trembling mess in her arms.

For a moment, the only sound in the garage was your ragged breathing, the distant creak of the wooden beams above, the hum of a world that didn’t matter anymore—because all you could feel was her.

Ellie pressed a soft kiss to your temple, her hands finally stilling against your spent body. Then, with the smuggest fucking voice you’d ever heard, she murmured—

"So… about that alternator?"

You slapped her arm.

also i tried being aesthetic with that lil header some people do but i think i failed miserably

[axeeglitter]

Melorius's shop: Mankind History

The night started like any other for Lucas: hunched over his desk, flipping through textbooks, trying to finish the assignments that always consumed his evenings. It wasn’t a choice, really, if he didn’t focus on his studies, he knew the fraternity jocks from Alpha Sigma Sigma would make his life even more miserable than it already was. But tonight, Lucas wasn’t aware that things were about to get much worse.

At that very moment, Chad and his pack of frat brothers were making their way through an old costume shop downtown. They were looking for outfits for the big Halloween "Trick or Dick Party" they were throwing, each one of them trying to outdo the other in finding the most absurd or outrageous costume. Chad, their leader, wore his usual cocky grin as he sifted through racks of cheesy superhero outfits, typical roman warriors and inflatable dinosaur suits.

“Guys, over here,” Chad called, spotting a strange, dusty section in the back of the shop. There, hanging alone on a rusted hook, was a skimpy caveman outfit. It was nothing more than a ragged loincloth made of rough cheap fabric looking like some cheap joke. Chad's eyes gleamed with mischief. “Check it out. This would be perfect for Lucas.”

The guys gathered around, laughing at the thought of Lucas, the scrawny nerd they loved bullying, dressed in such a humiliating costume. Chad grabbed the outfit, spinning it around in his hands. “Imagine him in this, his small thin pathetic body exposed to everyone, walking around on all four. He’d make the perfect mascot for the frat!”

The other boys nodded eagerly, their imaginations already running wild. "Let’s take it. Screw paying for it. This old men over here won't notice one missing." Chad stuffed the caveman outfit into his underwear and padded it a bit. His musky dick scrubbing the loincloth of the costume. The group laughed looking at their leader hiding the costume and then decided to get out before someone could find them, not even taking the time to grab costumes for themselves and deciding they would wear their Football uniforms tonight. ___

Hours passed, and Lucas eventually gave in to exhaustion, deeply falling asleep as the next-door frat boy party was about to begin in an hour or two. He didn’t hear the creak of his bedroom door opening, nor the hushed whispers and giggles of the frat boys as they snuck inside. Chad led the way, pulling the caveman outfit from his jockstrap while the others grabbed Lucas by the arms and legs, pinning him to the bed.

Lucas stirred, eyes fluttering open, confusion spreading across his face. “What the…” he started, but before he could protest, Chad ripped the covers off him, leaving him exposed in nothing but his underwear.

“Rise and shine, nerd!” Chad sneered, pulling the waistband of Lucas’s boxers down to his knees. Lucas squirmed in panic, but the boys held him down. His heart raced with humiliation as they laughed and jeered, treating him like some plaything. His face burned with shame, and he felt powerless as Chad held the caveman loincloth in front of him.

“N-no, please,” Lucas whimpered, “Let me go! I did everything you asked for! Just… let me go, please!” Lucas was shaking his head, but Chad only grinned wider.

“Time to become a real man, Lucas,” Chad mocked as he yanked the loincloth up Lucas’s legs, forcing the scratchy musky fabric around his waist.

The moment the costume touched Lucas’s skin, he felt a strange heat radiate through his body. At first, it was just an uncomfortable warmth, but then it started to burn. His muscles twitched uncontrollably, his body jerking beneath the frat boys’ grip. All of them looked at each other in fear that Lucas was having a seizure or something. But when they saw his biceps contract and starting to grow, they all looked at each other knowing that something great could come out of this, and they would have a laugh along the go.

“W-what’s happening to me?” Lucas gasped, his eyes wide with panic.

The frat boys leaned further in, watching in fascination as Lucas’s body began to change. His once-thin arms started to swell, muscles expanding, veins bulging beneath his skin. His bones cracked and lengthened, his fingers thickening into meaty, rough hands. The pain was unbearable, and Lucas groaned in agony, trying to fight it, but his body kept transforming against his will.

“Holy shit, look at him!” one of the boys exclaimed, watching as Lucas’s chest began to push outward, thick pecs growing where his once-flat chest had been. Dark hair sprouted all over his body, thick tufts covering his chest, arms, pits and pubes. Some of the frat boys were starting to really question what was happening and if they should just let him go and maybe ask for help, but Chad, always to confident and really wanting to push the humiliation on Lucas, forced them to stay in place. Lucas was feeling the millions of hair follicles piercing his skin. It was like he was getting tattooed on his whole body and it was a pain like he never felt before. But what really triggered his fear is when he tilted his head down to see the pubes climbing up his thickening abs just before his growing pecs totally blocked his vision. He hears Chad laughed followed by the others and the next thing he felt was the pain in his nostrils as a new musk was getting more and more pungent. Something musky, manly, earthy. Chad laughed again realizing it smelt like him after a training in the locker room. “Hahaha, looks like you smell like me now bro. That’s what a real man smells like!” Lucas opened his eyes realizing that his body was now creating this manly Chady musk. Tears started to roll down his cheeks as the boys kept laughing while gripping him.

Lucas could barely think through the pain as his muscles bulged bigger and stronger. His thighs thickened, splitting his legs apart with their sheer size. His feet stretched, growing massive, hairy, and ape-like, the toes becoming thick and nimble, almost like hands looking feet. He tried to scream, to beg them to stop, but all that came out were pitiful grunts.

“Hah, look at him,” Chad taunted, slapping Lucas’s newly muscled chest. “The nerd’s turning into a goddamn caveman!”

Lucas’s cock, which had always been embarrassingly small, now swelled in size. His groin already transformed in a forest of thick, coarse hair started to pulse with a weird energy as his dick grew longer, thicker, throbbing painfully against the loincloth. The humiliation of it all was overwhelming, and yet, Lucas felt something else, something primal, rising inside him. His dick kept growing longer and longer, thicker and thicker. The outline was really visible through the loincloth and you could see his heart beat making the cloth spasm. He hated what they were doing to him, hated how they were watching him, but he couldn’t stop the arousal that built with every passing second. Out of nowhere, Lucas started to feel a new intrusive sensation on his now huge 10 inches cock. It felt like something was growing on it, something tight and kind of arousing. All of a sudden, Lucas heard the boys starting to laugh as they Chad said in a manly voice. “Looks like the ape is uncut now!” Lucas was terrified. His foreskin just grew back and he could feel his cock head become more and more sensitive as precum started to leak out of his cock and stay trapped inside his new enclosure.

Lucas felt the grip on his right arm started to loosen up. With a fast movement, he freed his arm. But instead of trying to fight, he felt the stamina rise in him and his arm started to venture to his new dick. His hand moved on its own, reaching down to touch his growing cock, loosening up the loincloth along the way. “N-no, I don’t want this!” Lucas groaned, trying to pull his hand away, but his new body had other ideas. His fingers wrapped around his shaft, and the moment he made contact, a jolt of pleasure shot through him. He gasped, his body arching off the bed as he began to stroke himself.

The frat boys roared with laughter, watching as Lucas jerked himself off right in front of them, his eyes wild with fear and confusion. “Oh my god, he’s loving it!” Chad howled. “Look at him go!”

Lucas’s mind was trapped in horror, unable to control his own actions as his body gave in to its primal urges. His strokes became faster, more desperate, and within moments, he felt his cock pulse violently. “No, no, no!” he groaned, but it was too late. His hips bucked, and he exploded, thick ropes of cum splattering across his hairy chest. The orgasm was intense, overwhelming, and left him gasping for breath, his entire body trembling.

But it didn’t stop. His cock throbbed again, and even though he had just cum, the need built up inside him once more. “Oh god,” Lucas whimpered, feeling his cock harden again almost immediately. His hand resumed its stroking, faster this time, more frantic.

“Holy shit, he’s gonna blow again!” one of the boys laughed, pointing as Lucas’s cock spasmed, another wave of cum shooting out of him. His hairy groin was slick with it, and the frat boys looked on, wide-eyed, as Lucas came a second time, his body jerking uncontrollably.

Minutes passed, but Lucas couldn’t stop. He came again. And again. His cock was so sensitive now, every touch sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. His mind was reeling, horrified by what was happening, but his body craved it, needed it. Each orgasm was more intense than the last, his cum splattering everywhere, coating his chest, stomach, and the bed beneath him. With every orgasm he released, Lucas’s face was changing. Becoming manlier, more rugged. His nose broadens, his lip getting thicker. Stubble started to grow on his chicks and chin, his eyebrows turned bushier, his eyes going from a light grey to deep chocolate brown, his tongue growing thicker and longer, but most importantly, his hair started to grow longer and longer, thicker and thicker, curlier and curlier until they were touching his new muscled shoulders. He looked like a total cavemen now, his eyes were now the reflection of an animal only thinking about eating and fucking.

The frat boys stood back, letting him writhe on the bed, jerking off uncontrollably. “Jesus, he’s like an animal,” Chad muttered, watching as Lucas’s mind slipped further into primal madness.

Lucas could feel his mind slipping. The more he came, the less control he had. His brain felt foggy, overwhelmed by the pleasure, the musk, and the feral instincts that were taking over. His thoughts became simpler, his vocabulary shrinking, replaced by grunts and growls.

Chad smirked, realizing what had happened. “Well, boys, looks like we’ve got ourselves a new mascot.”

With that, they grabbed Lucas, who now moved in a mix of all four positions and standing ones, his massive feet gripping the floor like hands, and led him out of his dorm room. His body was no longer his own, and his mind was trapped, helpless to stop what was happening. He followed the frat boys without question, his cock still leaking with every scrub of the rough musky loincloth he was wearing, leaving a trail of cum behind him as they led him back to the frat house.

At the Halloween party that night, Lucas, now fully transformed into a feral caveman, was the center of attention. The frat boys paraded him around, showing him off to the guests. He walked on all fours, his huge, hairy body covered in musky cum, his cock still hard and throbbing. The girls screamed, the guys laughed, and Lucas’s mind could only watch in horror as his body followed its primal urges.

He couldn’t stop touching himself, couldn’t stop cumming. Every few minutes, he’d grunt and spasm, another load shooting out of him, covering the floor as he crawled around like an animal. His once-sharp mind was now reduced to nothing but basic instincts, driven by pleasure and the commands of the frat boys.

And as midnight arrived, Lucas came again one last time as he forgot who he was. From now on, he was their caveman, their obedient, cum-dripping mascot, his body and mind forever trapped in primal chaos.

In his shop, Mister Melorius was doing his inventory when he realized he couldn’t find one of his costumes. He looked for it everywhere but couldn’t put his hand on it. He snapped his fingers and saw in front of him an orb of sparkling light appears. In it, the vision of Chad laughing as he was put the cavemen loincloth inside his jock and scrubbing his dick before exiting his shop. “Hope you had a good laugh Chad, because now I’m coming for you …”

______________________________________________________________

Hey guys!

Sorry for the lack of posts lately. I’ll try my best to post more often in the future.

I hope you liked this story! It was inspired by a prompt from an anonymous sender:

"How about a group of jocks stealing a costume from a shop and forcing a nerd to wear it? Maybe it could be a caveman or a foreign construction worker uniform."

If you sent this to me, I hope you enjoyed it!

As always, feel free to reach out if you want to chat or send me a prompt—whether related to this event or any other stories you’d like me to write.

See you soon!

[rika-mmendmethings]

Lethe Récords l Sylus

Summary: In the forgotten shadows of N109, Lethe, a humble record shop, becomes a sanctuary for secrets and records. Amid its vinyl aisles, a quiet connection forms between the shopkeeper, you, and Sylus over choice of vinyl and trade of thoughts. But it had been just your delusion, for the woman beside him was just the proof of that.

Warning(s): one-shot, partially canon (?), reader is implied to be female, reader is the owner of a record shop which is also kinda an intel hub, angst with (little?) no comfort, no happy ending (let's cry together), unrequited love, Sylus and mc are in a relationship

Word count: 3.6k

Now playing: Fine by Taeyeon

Notes: We all know Sylus is a record collector from his bond and the gift on his desk (Chaconne in G minor Vitali and a track of The Beatles). So I wanted a fic with a record shop owner reader and a collector Sylus with a little bit of fun twists. So here it is, except it's heart-shattering angst (whoops). Consider this early release of my appreciation for all those who support me. Anyways, Idk shit about classical music, but my boyfriend is into it, so he taught me, but I might've messed up his teachings a bit (or did I? idk). Hopefully, you enjoy this ♥ {Also, do you remember Chang from Risqué Sketches? He's about to make lots of appearances in my fics lol}

The N109 zone was a place where shadows whispered secrets, and the air was thick with the smell of damp asphalt, rusting steel, and things unsaid. It was a place where the law had all but forgotten its existence, a cityscape of hidden alleyways and dimly lit bars, where even the sunlight seemed hesitant to break through the layers of grime. But there, in the midst of it all, was a small oasis of refuge — a record store, no bigger than a mediocre apartment, nestled humbly between a pawnshop and a closed-up diner. Its name was Lethe, the place where the forgotten could be remembered, and where the living could lose themselves in the embrace of music that belonged to a different era.

The shop itself, a modest thing by the standards of the world outside, had lived for six years in quiet rebellion against the noise of the city — and it wore its age like a badge of honor. Its creaky wooden floors groaned with history, each board telling a story of moments, of hands that had come and gone, flipping through the endless rows of vinyl. 

The front window, where the evening light would filter in soft and golden, was always a little fogged, as if the outside world couldn’t quite reach inside. It framed a wooden sign that hung with quiet dignity, its curves and loops spelling out the name ‘Lethe’ in graceful cursive, a promise in every swish of the inked letters. The name itself seemed to hum softly, as though it carried a secret — a gentle invitation to forget, to step into another world. Beneath the sign, a poster tacked up crookedly on the door read: ‘From the worldly shackles and bounds you could leave, if you dare to embrace the music of Lethe.’  

The air inside was always laced with a heady mix of old paper, polished wood, and something more elusive. It clung to the walls and to the worn leather of the armchair in the corner, where many would sink into the embrace of a record’s melody, just to breathe in the atmosphere that Lethe breathed out. And then, there were the fairy lights, strung haphazardly across the ceiling, twinkling softly like distant stars in a sky that had forgotten the sun.

The records themselves lined the shelves like an old friend waiting to be discovered anew. Vinyl of every size and shape, from the dustiest blues and jazz to the most obscure classical works, gleamed under the soft glow of the lights. There were endless racks of albums, some well-worn, others pristine, each one a story in itself. 

Beyond the records, displayed with quiet pride, were the instruments — delicate pieces of craftsmanship, few in number but rich in history. A violin with a body carved so finely it seemed to hum with its own resonance, a guitar with strings that had never been plucked but still held the promise of music, a flute that glimmered with silver edges, its tone a silent call to the weary-hearted. They were art as much as they were function, set up carefully in their display cases like treasures too precious to be touched.

The walls, covered with a scattered array of posters, felt like a gallery of past artists and long-forgotten musicians. Each poster was more than just a picture; it was a moment frozen in time, a testament to the golden eras of music that whispered through the very walls of Lethe. Names like Coltrane, Chopin, and Fitzgerald hung side by side with the obscure and the unknown, faces frozen in mid-song, lost to the ages, yet alive within these walls. 

But the shop wasn’t just a haven for vinyl collectors; it was a hub for everyone who was involved in the crime and gore of the area. During the day, fewer people came and went, but it was never the same when the sun sank behind the horizon. At night, the record store became something else. It transformed into a marketplace of whispers, of people looking for connections, for someone to share a secret with. And in the midst of it all, there was you, always behind the counter, always listening, always willing to trade what you knew for a few hundred dollars, a few hundred dollars that would let you scrape by for another month. Because after all, survival amid a criminal filled city required knowledge of valuable information and not dusty records.

You were only twenty-four-something, but life had already etched a certain tiredness in your bones. The dark circles under your eyes weren’t from sleepless nights spent worrying over a future you couldn’t quite see. They were the result of endless days in a shop that sold more than music. She peddled information too. And in this world, information was currency — dangerous currency, but currency all the same. The deals were made in whispers, promises sealed with thin lips and even thinner smiles, and no one ever seemed to care about the weight of the things they traded for their little piece of safety. 

It was one of those rare, sun-drenched afternoons in the N109 zone when the dust in the air caught the light, and the streets seemed a little quieter, as if the world was holding its breath. Lethe, as always, stood in the shadow of the chaos that thrived outside, its small wooden sign swaying gently in the breeze. The shop was still, save for the occasional rustle of vinyl, the murmur of the turntable spinning quietly in the corner, and the soft click of your fingers tapping against the counter.  You were lost in your own thoughts, letting the hum of the day wash over you.

Then, the bell over the door jingled.

It was a sound that barely broke the silence, but the instant it did, something in the atmosphere shifted. A weight descended, and you looked up, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes met him.

Sylus.

The moment he stepped inside, the shop seemed to go still. Sylus was the leader of Onychinus, undisputed king of the N109 zone, a figure whose name was spoken in hushed tones, whose reputation preceded him like a dark cloud that rained fear. With a bounty on his head worth billions, he was both a criminal mastermind and a myth — one that most were too terrified to approach. Yet here he was, strolling into Lethe like he owned the place. 

He was tall, impeccably dressed in all-black dress shirt with slacks, and there was a certain elegance to the way he carried himself. His eyes, a burning ruby red, seemed to see everything at once, and yet, nothing at all. There was something in that gaze — cold, calculating — as if the entire shop were just another piece on a chessboard, one he was already strategizing his next move on.

You thought he had been here for just business so you were mildly surprised when you saw him make no move toward the counter and rather stay planted in front of the shelves. His presence filled the room, his height towering over the rows of vinyl, his sharp eyes scanning the shop with an air of quiet condescension. His gaze briefly flicked to you before settling on the rows of records in front of him. 

His fingertips trailed over the surface, gently exploring the textured artwork, feeling the grooves and edges of the cover. His movements were slow, deliberate, like a man who was never in a rush, never worried that time might slip through his fingers. You noticed him picking out something from the corner of your eye and instantly buried your face in the magazine you had been holding after you saw him approach the counter. 

You had been doing your best to appear nonchalant when, without warning, the magazine was plucked from your hands. Before you could even process what had happened, it was placed back between your outstretched palms, but this time, something was different. The letters now seemed suddenly clearer, more legible. And with a surge of mortifying realization, you understood — you had been holding the magazine upside down. The worst part? He had right away corrected it, without a single word, and that quiet action made you want nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear. 

“Good afternoon,” his voice was smooth, like velvet, but with an undercurrent of something sharp. 

“What can I help you with today?” you asked, trying to shake off the former awkwardness.

“I’m looking for information. About Chang. You know who he is, don’t you?”

You could almost feel the weight of his expectations pressing down on you. He wasn’t here to waste time. He had no need to make small talk. You swallowed hard, “I know of him,” you replied carefully. “What do you want to know?”

Sylus didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a slow step closer to the counter, leaning slightly, his eyes still on her, still calculating, as if the conversation itself was part of some grand scheme. "Chang is dealing with uncut diamonds, isn't he?" Sylus continued, his tone still so smooth, so assured, as though this wasn’t a conversation, but an order. “I need to know what he plans to do with them. The man is cleaning after himself.”

He picks up a small hourglass from your table, playing around with it as he continues, “He’s a rat in my meticulously arranged system. I plan to have him gone.” He flips the hourglass, putting it back down on your table and shifts his ruby gaze to you as he starts, “And time is a very valuable factor of mine so I’d suggest you start now.” 

The sand falls from the upper chamber, it trickles down in a continuous, delicate cascade, each grain slipping past the narrow constriction of the hourglass’s neck. You were aware that the information that you might be handing might be the reason for multiple deaths but you had stopped caring a while ago in this kind of business.  You feel like a bomb ticking above you and usher to tell him whatever you know about Chang the businessman. 

“Chang is arranging the delivery of those diamonds through ocean freight. He already has everything ready on the docks and is just waiting for the cargo ship to arrive. The estimated time of shipment should be around 7 in the evening today.”

Sylus hummed, rubbing his chin in thought. You thought that that was it and he’d be paying you and going off on his way. Sylus, to your surprise, seemed to care less for the information. He fetched out his card and even placed the record he had picked on the table, intending to pay for both the information and the vinyl. 

Huh. You never expected him to be someone who was interested in record collecting.

You sneaked a glance at the cover of the record he was purchasing. It was a one-sided vinyl featuring the track “Yesterday” by The Beatles. You had heard the track before and had concluded it to be a pretty sentimental track. Surprises after surprises for you, he was a melancholic person as well. You handed him his black card back, along with the bill and the now wrapped-up record. You watched him walk away, something in you telling that this won’t be your last meeting.

Weeks passed, and the steady rhythm of Lethe continued — the low hum of vinyl spinning, the soft murmur of conversation, the quiet rustling of records as they were flipped through. But something had changed in the air of the shop, something subtle, a shift that you couldn’t quite place at first. Sylus came in more frequently, not just to inquire about shady deals or exchange whispered secrets for a few hundred dollars, but for no reason at all — or so it seemed. The lines between business and something else blurred with each visit. 

At first, it was still the same. Sylus would walk in with that knowing, calculated air, his ruby eyes scanning the room with a hunger that went beyond the information he sought. He’d ask about Sherman, about the mafiosos, about anyone who held a thread of power he could pull — and in exchange of a few thousand dollars, you would give him the answers he craved. Each transaction was sharp and direct, devoid of warmth. But soon enough, those visits began to change.

At first, it was small things — casual remarks, little moments of lightness. Sylus would comment on the weather, his words almost a challenge as if he were testing the waters. He’d ask if she had heard a certain piece of music lately, or inquire about a specific artist he hadn’t seen in the shop before. The questions were simple, almost innocent, and yet, there was an edge to them, an underlying curiosity that didn’t feel quite like the cold precision of their first meeting.

You noticed it one afternoon, when Sylus wandered through the aisles, running his fingers across the records, almost idly. You had unknowingly trained your eyes on him, not even bothering to act busy. He caught your gaze a few times and each time you apologized profusely but didn’t stop your blatant gawking. 

“You know… for someone who seems so apologetic for staring,” he started with that characteristic half-smile, the one that was always so difficult to read. “You do seem to be doing a lot of it.” His crimson gaze met yours as he finished and you felt yourself grow warm at that. 

His words were teasing, but they didn’t hold the same edge they once had. They were softer, more casual, as if he didn’t need to guard every word with the same razor-sharp caution. He had become a regular — not just for business, but for the quiet company that Lethe and its records and you offered, even if it was laced with a few words and comfortable silences.

Each time though, without fail, he’d slip a record onto the counter. Not always a new purchase, sometimes the same album again, as though each listen brought him closer to understanding something. You began to notice the pattern — the records he bought were always melancholic, always steeped in the kind of sadness that you found hard to ignore. Bach, Chopin, Beethoven, Rachmaninoff. Composers who spoke of love, loss, and longing. 

By the time another boring Sunday night rolled around, you were used to the silence of the shop. It was an uneventful evening, the rain tapping lightly against the windows, a soft rhythm accompanying the quiet. You moved with the routine of someone who had long since learned how to close up without haste, the motions automatic as you arranged your desk. You were just about to switch off the lights  when the bell above the shop chimed, cutting through the tranquility like a knife.

You froze.

The rain had picked up outside, the sky darker now, and through the window, she saw him — Sylus, drenched, standing in the doorway, his usual air of command slightly softened by the water dripping from his coat. His eyes met yours with an intensity that took your breath away, as though there was something unsaid hanging between them, something that neither of them had dared to acknowledge before.

He stepped inside without a word, shaking the water from his coat, and made his way toward the counter. As he approached, he placed a vinyl gently on the surface, his fingers lingering on the edge of the sleeve as if the act itself were a delicate ritual.

Bach. Chaconne in D minor.

Your breath hitched. You recognized the piece immediately — a work so raw, so filled with longing and pain, it was almost impossible to listen to without feeling the weight of its emotion. The D minor Chaconne was a masterpiece of reflection and transformation, a piece about loss and the quiet acceptance of it, a song that carried the weight of a thousand broken hearts, yet somehow held a grace within its sorrow. It was a piece that was both deeply personal and universal, speaking to something buried within every soul.

For a long moment, Sylus stood silently, his eyes watching you with that same calculating gaze, but now there was something more in them. A flicker, almost imperceptible, but undeniable. It was vulnerability — or maybe it was the hint of something softer that you had never seen before. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by his lips set in a firm line.

"I’d like to buy this." he almost pleaded, his voice carrying some guilt when he saw that you were about to close the shop.

You nodded slowly, swallowing the lump that had suddenly lodged in your throat. You spoke, attempting to break the silence, “It’s one of my favorites.”

Sylus’s gaze held the weight of a profound realization as he stared at the record. Then, without breaking eye contact with it, he reached for his wallet. He didn’t speak as you made the bill, but his presence filled the room, as heavy as the rain pouring outside.

You carefully wrapped the vinyl in paper, fingers trembling slightly. Your mind raced, the significance of his choice not lost on you. The Chaconne wasn’t just music; it was a message. 

As you handed the record back to him, your heart pounded in your chest, a traitorous whisper creeping into your thoughts. Was this a hint? A suggestion? A gesture? Something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you wonder if — just maybe — he saw you the way she had started to see him. 

Perhaps, at that moment, he wasn’t just buying a record. 

“Good night,” he said quietly. And with that, he turned and left, disappearing into the rain, leaving you standing there, breathless and delusional. 

You had played that record for weeks since then, drowning in the music, its meaning and thoughts that rose from it. It was a classical piece, but it wasn’t just any piece. It was a song about realization — a song about a man who finally understood his own heart, his own feelings. You felt her heart flutter as you listened to the record time and time again, the faint hope in your chest blooming into something fragile, something delicate. Could he… could he be feeling what you felt? The idea seemed impossible, yet that song, that beautiful, aching song, seemed to speak directly to you. 

But hope, you knew, was a dangerous thing. And three weeks passed without a word from Sylus.

When he finally returned, he wasn’t alone. The woman who stood beside him was everything you were not, yet everything that he deserved. And that train of thought made your chest heavy. 

Where you were worn, tired, and sharp-edged from too many years of surviving, this woman was light. She radiated warmth, a gentle, sunlit glow that softened the shadows of the shop. Her laughter seemed to lift the very air, like the sound of spring after a long, harsh winter. 

Her hair was a golden cascade, caught in soft waves that caught the light in a way that your darker, untamed strands never could. Her skin was smooth, untouched by the world’s grime, glowing with a purity that made you feel invisible in comparison. She was the kind of woman who walked into a room and made everything seem more beautiful, more alive. Her eyes were wide, sparkling, full of kindness, and when she smiled, it was as though she were opening a door to a better world, a world you would never be invited into.

And then there was the way Sylus looked at her.

You had always been aware of Sylus’s gaze — how it lingered with a quiet intensity, how it never seemed to reach you with the same depth as it did with the woman beside him. There was a tenderness in the way he looked at her as she excitedly picked out vinyl, a softness that you had once imagined might be meant for you, but now you saw it clearly for what it was. It was a love, a real one, blooming in front of your eyes, and you could do nothing but stand in its shadow and watch it grow.

And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt. 

They selected a couple of records and she greeted you with a genuine smile, placing her picks on the counter. You wordlessly made the bill, afraid that you’d break if you even uttered a word. You watched her admire the vintage instruments with awe when a nudge to your fingers brought your gaze back to the counter. He had secretly placed a vinyl on the counter with a smile, his eyes not on you but on the woman beside him. And then, as you turned to gather the rest of their purchases, you caught a glimpse of the cover of the vinyl he had chosen without the woman’s knowledge. 

Your heart plummeted.

It was “Bridal Chorus" by Wagner. A song used in proposals, weddings.

He was going to propose to her.

Your hands trembled as you rang up their purchase, your mind reeling with the gravity of the moment. You could hear their soft laughter as you handed them the bag, could see the way Sylus looked at you, but his eyes didn’t hold the same warmth they once had. They had shifted, replaced with something else. 

Hope died slowly in your chest, like the last note of a song fading into silence. You watched as Sylus and his soon-to-be fiancée walked out of the shop, their hands still intertwined, their smiles still bright.

And in the empty silence that followed, you put on “La Traviata” by Giuseppe Verdi on your record player, sinking in the music of a love unreturned.

Check out my other works if you liked this.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Din Djarin X Reader: Guilty Pleasure

Warnings: not proof read, smut, penetration (p in v), fingering, hand job, cream pie, pet names, touch starved, cursing, kissing, no use of yn

Word count: 2K

He’s trying not to look. He really is but you're not making it easy. 

Maker, it isn’t your fault he finds you irresistible. 

Here you are innocently helping him fix his ship and all he can think about is how it would feel to fuck you from behind. It’s been going on for weeks now. Every time you bend down, your ass coming into his view, Mandos mind seems to venture to sinful thoughts. He didn’t know why it’d started, you'd been with him for months now and even though he’d realized he had a thing for you days ago he’d only recently started to see you in this new light. A light that made him feel like his pants were too tight and made his breath become uneven.

“Kriffing metal piece of-shit!”

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a part that needs replacing.”

“You can’t fix it?”

“No, it's completely rusted. Not a surprise though. When was the last time you put some oil on this thing?”

In all honesty Mando had no idea the compartment you were currently tinkering with existed much less that he needed to oil it. You took his silence as an answer, shaking your head.

“Well, lucky for us there is a shop in town that deals in ship parts. They should have what we need.”

The two of you walked through the crowded town. Dins hand rested on his blaster, eyes looking around for any signs of trouble. You held the new part you purchased in your hand. The owner of the shop had asked for a fair price and to your surprise the piece was in rather good condition. You glanced to the side, eyes catching on a small shop. You didn’t notice the person walking towards you until their shoulder bumped into yours. You stumbled your hand releasing the part you held. It fell to the ground with a dull thud. You bent down to get it.

Mando had been too focused on a sketchy looking man to notice you’d stopped walking. His body collided into yours, his hands instinctively moved to hold onto your frame. Mandos' eyes widened beneath his helmet as he realized the position he now found himself in. His hands rested on your hips keeping you steady. You were bent forward, your ass pushed against his groin. By some force of nature Din had found himself in the exact position he’d been thinking about for the past few days. 

In the middle of a crowded street. 

In front of a bunch of strangers. 

Mando didn’t touch you often. He usually avoided coming in contact with your body when possible. So when you felt his grip on your hips you froze. Your head turned to the side, eyes moving up Mandos body until they reached his helmet. Mando started at your shocked expression. He should have let you go already but he couldn’t move. You turned your attention back to the part grabbing it in your hand. Once it was securely in your palm you slowly started to rise. Mandos' hands remained glued to you as you moved. You finally managed to get upright and you immediately regretted it.

You could feel his body pressed against yours. A small sigh left your lips at the feeling. Maker it had been so long since you’d been this close to someone.  Beneath his helmet Mando shut his eyes taking a deep breath in. You felt so soft against him. Your body was a warm contrast against the chilled metal that constantly surrounded him. His fingers flexed against your skin digging into the meat of your hips. You let out a sharp intake of breath. The noise made Mando open his eyes. He watched you rest your head against his shoulder blade, your eyes closed and lips slightly parted. You’d exposed your neck to him and the only thing he could think about was sinking his teeth into you. Mando called out your name causing you to furrow your brows before opening your eyes slowly. You tilted your head slightly so that you could stare at the T shape of his visor. You should have been embarrassed, maybe even a little ashamed, of how you were behaving but you weren't. You’d longed for Din’s touch for a long time and now that you had it, you weren’t going to waste your time worrying about it. You were going to savor this moment. No matter how little it lasted. 

“We have to get out of here.”

Mandos' modulated voice sounded strange. He sounded like he’d just ran a mile. It was then that you realized you had the same effect on him that he had on you.

Mando struggled to center himself as he dragged you towards the crowd. You stumbled after him, your hand grasping him tightly as you tried to keep up with his speed. You’d passed two motels on the way and it had taken everything inside Mando to not rent a room and get you naked as fast as possible. But he didn’t want to seem that desperate so he shook the thoughts out of his head.

You were getting close to the ship now, just a little bit longer and you’d get to feel him again.

Din smashed his hand against the hull's panel, a growl escaping his lips as he waited for the door to open all the way. Once it did, he dragged you inside the ship. You placed the part on top of a counter quickly turning to face Mando once more. You watched him slam his fist into the inside panel, making the door close again before he spun to look at you. You stare at him, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you wait for him to do something. Mandos' hands moved to his armor tugging at the metal desperately. 

“Help me cyar'ika.”

You rushed over to him, your own hand tugging at the beskar that covered him. For the first time you were looking at him without his armor and even with his flight suit still on you could see everything. Mando moved forward, stepping away from the pile of metal and making his way to you. His arms wrapped around your frame tugging you into his body. You gasped at the feeling of him. Unlike his armor he was incredibly warm and soft. You sighed into him, your head moving to rest against his neck. Mando groped you ass making you squeal. 

“Ah Din!”

He loved the way his name sounded coming out of your lips. You felt his hands move towards your front. You moaned as he stroked your clothed cunt with his fingers. Your hands moved to his head trying to grasp onto his hair only to remember he was still using his helmet. Din seemed to sense the disappointment in your body, his fingers stopping his teasing. His other hand made its way to your face, tugging your chin up so that you were looking at his visor. Your pupils were blown wide and your face was slightly flushed. Din smiled under his helmet. Maker if this is how you reacted to his fingers he wondered how you would look after he’d bent you over and fucked you stupid. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“What?”

“Saw you pouting about something. What is it?”

You bit into your lip. The truth is you wanted to see his face but you couldn’t ask him for that. You respected his allegiance to the Mandalore and his beliefs far too much to be that selfish but you really wanted to be able to feel him properly. You wanted to kiss and and hear his unfiltered grunts as he fucked you.

‘Mesha’la. Tell me what you want.”

“You can't give me what I want.”

“How can you know that if you didn’t even ask me for it?”

“I want to kiss you.”

Mandos' body stiffens at your words, his hand resting on your cheek as he tries to think about what you’d just said. You move against him taking a step back. 

“It’s okay i know you can’t it was stupid to-”

“Close your eyes.”

You stopped walking backwards, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to think of something to say. Mando tilts his head to the side and despite not saying anything you know what he’s asking. You do as he asked, eyes closing. You hear the hiss of his helmet being released and you almost stop breathing. Mando makes his way over to you, his hand finding your cheek once more.

“Promise to keep them closed.”

His voice sounds majestic without the modulator.

“I promise.”

“Good girl.”

Before you can even respond his lips are on yours. You groan into his mouth, your tongue darting out to ask him for entrance. He understands your request, his lips opening to let you in. Your tongues move together. The kiss isn't pretty, it's visceral. Your hands grab onto any part of Din you can and he does the same to you. You're so lost in the taste of him you barely register the fact that he's pulled your pants down to your ankles. It's only when you feel his fingers against your pussy that you realize your bareness. Din bites into your shoulder as he pistols his fingers into you. You melt into his hands latching onto his curls as you moan. His name leaves your lips like a prayer and he swears he’ll never forget the sound. 

“Din pleasee.”

“What is it mesha’la? What do you want?”

“I need you inside Din-ugh ah- wanna feel you.”

“Fuck cyar'ika.”

He spins you around so fast that you almost fall to the ground. You brace yourself against the cold wall, brows furring as you listen to Mando unzip his flight suit. 

“Give me your hand.”

You lift your hand to Dins face. He licks a strip down your palm before maneuvering your arm to twist downwards. A gasp leaves your lips as you feel his dick against your hand. You begin stroking him and he moans.

“Yeah just like that fuck.”

He lets you stroke him a bit before pulling your hand away. You whine at the lack of contact.

“I thought you wanted me inside.”

“I do.”

“Can’t be inside you if i’m fucking your hand mesha’la.”

It sounds strange to hear such dirty words coming out of Din's mouth. You like it though. You wonder what noises he’ll make when he’s balls deep in you. The thought makes you nudge your ass against him. Mando gets the massage. His toys with you a bit, sliding his dick against your folds for a moment before plugging in. The sound that leaves your lips isn’t natural. Din groans into your neck as your walls flutter around him.

“Move please Din move.”

He started rocking into you slowly. Your hands move against the cold wall, trying to find something to grab onto but coming on empty. You throw your hand behind your head searching for Dins curls. Once you find them you latch your fingers onto his scalp tugging at him as he pistols into you. You can hear your knees bainging against the wall as Din fucks you, you’re sure to wake up with bruises tomorrow but you don’t care. You focus on the grunt Din lets out as his dick spears into you. He’s a lot more vocal than you’d imagined. 

“Din i’m close…”

“Me to just a little more-ugh fuck me-a little more.”

Dins hands trail against your hips moving to your front. His fingers search for your clit moving expertly against the bud. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cum. Din feels you milking his cock the feeling of your walls sucking him in making his hips sputter. His pace fastens and pretty soon he's filling you with his seed. You slump against the wall body sagging as your energy drains out of you. Din rests his head against the metal hull, his breathing coming unsteady. The two of you stay like that for a moment each one trying to come back to reality. 

“I’m never oiling any part of this ship again.”

You laugh at Dins words, head turning to give him a kiss. 

“Maybe i’ll have to start dropping stuff in front of you more often.”

“Don’t tempt me mesha’la. I’ll fuck you on every surfess of this ship if you let me.”

“Oh yeah? That a threat or a promise?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

[rafeovermorals]

CRUSH - RAFE CAMERON PT. 2

he looks like he works with his hands, and smells like marlboro reds it makes me so, uh, and i can’t get enough of it

pt. 1

content: inspired on the song crush by ethel cain. mechanic!rafe au. reader isn’t from obx but she would be considered more kook. includes smut, fingering, oral (m recieving), p in v, creampie, mean!rafe, degrading, age gap (reader is eighteen), MINORS DNI!!!!!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: this is the last part to this mini series (at least for now)! but next i want to work on a dbf!rafe series or a vampire!rafe series. if anyone is interested in either one of those stayed tuned xo

“come by the shop tomorrow, it’s time for you to pay up.”

the call ended with a click. no goodbye, no time to meet. rafe didn’t bother to ask you, no, he told you.

he didn’t feel like he had to, he knew you would show up. you were the type to listen to your elders.

you laid in bed with disbelief, fingers still coated in your slick post orgasm. it didn’t take you long to drift off thinking about him— the raspiness in his voice, his dirty words repeating back in your head,

“do you normally get off on strangers talkin’ to you like this, hm? lettin’ them cum to your sweet lil’ voice over the phone?”

you stirred in your sleep as you dreamt of him. rafe was rough around the edges with eyes of a predator— the type that should tell you to run— yet you wanted more.

maybe that’s why he picked you. the perfect prey, too sweet and dumb for her own good.

rafe was nothing like the boys back home. your last boyfriend was a gentleman, clean cut and charming, but he was probably just as clueless as you. he wouldn’t know the last thing about changing out a tire, and certainly didn’t know how to please you the way rafe just had.

just from your short encounters with him, you could tell he had experience well beyond your years. he came from a different world, one that consisted of labor intensive, twelve hour work days— while you had just finished high school, barely ever lifting a finger of your own.

you were restless until the sun came up.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thankfully, today your alarm did wake you up, and you had plenty of time to get ready.

you wore your favorite yellow babydoll dress for the occasion, the one with dainty frills at the skirt that paired perfectly with your brown cowgirl boots. you had matching bows in your hair, clipped at the end of two braided pieces in the front while the rest of draped past your shoulders.

you wanted to look extra pretty for rafe since he caught you so off guard the day before, though you hoped it didn’t look too obvious

butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you went up to the rusted doors of his shop, business card folded in hand.

‘Cameron’s Auto and Body Repair’ was spelt on the glass in aged, faded lettering surrounded by dilapidated brick. you began to wonder how long he’d been there for considering the buildings clear wear and tear, which then led you to question— how old was he?

you hadn’t thought to ask for his age, or really anything else beyond what was on the business card. guess you weren’t too worried about that when he was helping you cum last night.

you walked in, a bell ringing as you did so. even with multiple cars in the lot, the shop itself was empty of customers. there was one person propped up against the checkout register, scrolling on his phone until you spoke, “excuse me?”

“are y’ pickin’ up or droppin’ o— oh.“

his eyes tore away from the screen, bored expression quickly leaving his face as his gaze landed on you. he was suddenly interested, straightening his back and pushing his device off to the side. “sorry about that, how can i help you?”

you let out a giggle at his silliness, standing across from him behind the counter. you would assume he’s close in age with you based on his appearance— youthful face and golden locks peaking from his hat. you saw he had a name tag printed to his coveralls, jj.

“hi, i’m just here to make a payment, actually.”

he stared at you for a bit, eyebrows knitted and chin rested his hand. “and you’re sure you’ve been here before? i would’ve remembered a cute face like yours.”

a blush crept to your cheeks, shaking your head. “no, but i did have some work done yesterday.”

he fumbled through the visitor log, briefly scanning the pages of signatures. “hmm, and what’s your name?”

you weren’t sure if he was asking to actually check or just wanted to know for himself— probably the latter. “i don’t think it’ll be there but it’s-“

you stopped at the sound of a loud slam, finding the source to be rafe standing on the other side of the room. your breath hitched, seeing his eyes bore into you. he was not amused, you could tell.

“flirtin’ with our customers again, maybank?”

jj looked like he was caught red handed, swallowing in his throat. “umm, no, she uh— said she had an invoice and needed to pay. that’s all.” he responded nervously, looking at you with a plea to back his word.

“yes, i wasn’t sure where to go.. i just got here.”

jj flickered between the two of you as the tension was rising in the air. sure, his boss was a jackass, but he could tell he was missing something.

rafe hummed, gesturing his head to the door behind him with arms crossed over his chest. “you can come with me. and jj, go to fuckin’ lunch.”

you gave the younger boy a small smile. you could tell he wanted to speak up— maybe stop god knows whatever was about to happen— but he held his tongue. rafe didn’t take back talk very well, something you would learn soon.

you followed in rafe’s direction where he led you past the bay and into his office. it was a tiny space, smelled of oil and gasoline with just enough room for a few file cabinets. it also had a desk, scattered with various papers and a few tools that weren’t put away.

“sit.” he referred to the worn chair in front of him, leaning on the edge of his wooden desk.

he was wearing a tank top, what used to be white but was now brown from being covered in dirt. it had ripped at the seams from its overuse, making it more like a scrap of fabric. dusted blue jeans hung low on his hips with a belt, his grease stained arms flexing at his side as he looked down at you.

you felt yourself getting warm just by looking at him.

“i brought your payment, sir.”

he smirked at your words, raising a brow as he waited and watched you.

you reached into the cup of your bra, feeling around until you pulled out a wad of cash that you had stuck there earlier. you unrolled the paper bills, handing it over to him.

he counted it out with a low chuckle. “sixty dollars. you think that’s how much i’m worth, sweetheart?” he teased.

you turned red, fiddling with your bracelet from anxious habit. “i wasn’t sure how much something like that costed, ‘s all.”

“i already told y’that i don’t want your money.” he stood up, setting the cash aside. “i have other ways that i would prefer you to pay me back.”

he towered over you, filling in the compressed space. you were eye level with his crotch, the print of his cock made itself known to you through his pants. you could smell him with his proximity— a blend of sweat and cigarettes and musk that made your head spin.

“get on your knees, darlin’.” he told you with that thick, honey southern drawl.

for a moment he took you by surprise, but you didn’t hesitate to slide off the chair and onto the tile floor in front of his feet. you shouldn’t want this. you should want a nice boy, someone your father would approve of, or at the very least take you on a date before he fucked you. yet here you were, cock desperate and mouth agape— practically begging for it.

he started to take off his gloves. “thought you would’ve texted me when you were on the way, i could’ve washed up f’you.”

“i meant to.. i must’ve forgot.”

“it’s okay, sweetheart.” his voice was smooth, but condescending. he began to work his belt free, slow and deliberate as he held eye contact with you. “now you’re just gonna have to suck me clean.”

he tugs his jeans down with his boxers, cock springing out with authority. you nearly whimper at the sight, taken aback.

he was more than just big— he was longer and thicker than you imagined— the weight heavy in your hand has you held it. his tip was flushed, a needy pink that was inviting you in.

your lips brushed the head, giving him a kiss at its slit. he let out a restrained grunt, bringing a hand to your head and grasping at the scalp. “not in the mood for teasing, baby.”

your tongue grazed his shaft, licking up from the base until he directed himself into your mouth. he tasted like a hard days work, sweat and salty precum whelming your tastebuds.

you pushed deeper for more, bracing your free hand on his thigh for support. he guides you, inch by inch into until he hit the back of your throat. you choke, pulling away.

“fuck,” you gasp out, jerking your wrist on his length while you catch your breath. he weaved his fingers through your hair, giving it a tug.

you take him in again, bobbing at a steady pace— not too far or fast— but just right.

he held his other hand on the corner of a cabinet, keeping his balance while you swirl your tongue around the tip.

“you like the taste of dirty cock in your mouth, sweetheart? i’m sure y’daddy’s real proud of you, huh?”

you moaned in response, making him buck his hips further. you could feel his legs trembling as he fucked your mouth, signaling that he was close. you relaxed your throat, ready to take his load.

but he stopped, releasing his hold on you and taking you off.

his once blue eyes were black, dark with lust and something almost evil.

“not finished with you yet, sweetheart. think i deserve a little more after that stunt you pulled out there.”

“w-what- what do you mean?” you asked, your voice soft and uneasy. you could hardly speak, let alone think.

he tisked, snatching you by the arm to get you on your feet before bending you over and pressing you down to the desk. he cleared it off with one smooth motion, stacks of paper and metal clanks hitting the floor.

“wanna act stupid now? throwin’ yourself at my employee’s, that’s what.” he growled, hands riding up your dress and grabbing at your ass. you stifled a whine as he kneaded the flesh, thumbs digging into your skin.

heat radiated off of both of you, his chest twice your size folded against your back, your cheek smushed to the wood.

“it wasn’t- ah- like that.” you breathe out as his fingers find your panties, swiping over your clothed clit.

“so what was it like then? hmm?” he nudged his knee between your thighs, parting your legs for better access. he rubbed tedious circles, your arousal soaking through the cotton.

“i came here for you.. just you.” you answered in a moan.

“just me.” he agreed, tugging off your panties and tucking them into his pocket. he slipped his middle finger past your folds, sinking into your cunt.

“shouldn’t even be stretchin’ you out first, think you did enough of that when i called you.”

he curled the digit, hooking and flicking it inside you in a spot that makes your knees buckle underneath him. you bite down on a lip to silence yourself.

rafe was impatient. he’d already had a bad day— behind on some repair that should’ve been finished weeks ago— then his lazy ass staff had the audacity to make a move on you. he needed you now.

maybe if he was in a better mood he would’ve taken care of you first, given you an orgasm or two with his mouth— but he didn’t think you deserved that— not today at least.

his cock wedged into your entrance, no mercy with a full thrust. you winced, crying out as he rocked into you, the mix of your spit and slick still not enough to relieve the pain of his girth. you were so tight, your walls gripping his cock as he fucked himself into you.

“such a good girl, takin’ me so well.”

the burn eventually wore off, his thrusts that started off slow began to speed up. you were still squeezing around him, splitting you open farther than you had been before.

your search along the desk for something to grab, getting him to hold both your wrists behind your back. you balled your hands into a fist, your whimpers getting louder as he picked up the pressure. harder, controlled.

he was slamming into you now, the slaps of his thighs meeting yours while he grunted into your ear. “look so fuckin’ pretty today, darlin’, makes me wanna put my babies in you.”

you couldn’t reply, he knew it too. you just had to lay there and let him use you— for pay back.

this was exactly what he wanted. your pussy was so wet and warm, practically untouched. it was as if you were created for him.

you clenched around his cock, like an animal in heat you found yourself matching his movements, your body accepting its purpose.

you were cock drunk, words inaudible as the legs of the desk shifted with each forceful thrust. he was pounding into you hungrily, both of your faces screwing up in pleasure.

he knew he grazed that sweet spot in your walls when you fluttered around his length, stickiness pooling at the base of his cock.

“wanna watch you cum on my cock.” he grumbles, releasing your wrists as he pulls away, flipping you over to be face to face.

he picked up where he left off, plunging into you as he met your hips with sloppy, frantic thrusts. you were so weak by that point he had to hold your legs up, toes curling when his tip connected with your cervix.

“gonna cum- please, rafe- fuck, right there.” you were a babbling mess, mewling like a kitten.

he brought one hand to your mouth. stuffing his fingers in to shush you like a pacifier. his other hand went to your swollen clit, rubbing the sensitive bud to help get to your climax.

he coaxed you through it. “cmon, just like that. i know you’re almost there, sweetheart.”

he rammed into you a few more times, watching his bulge outline your little tummy as you took him.

your core eventually snaps, releasing the flood as you squirm and shake— too much to bare.

“too much! too much!”

“nuh uh. be a big girl, and take it.”

he started to stutter, eventually spilling his load inside of you. your cunt pulsated as you felt him fill you up, like it was trying to collect all of his seed.

rafe moved aside, zipping up his jeans while you flattened your dress. he gave you a kiss on the cheek, like one you would give to a child, patting it afterwards in approval.

“now we’re even.”