#mal x simon

[toshsato]

My point is: could’ve been you she might have shot just then, the doctor, as you just made note of. And who exactly could fix you? Not nobody.

#firefly #malcolm reynolds #simon tam #mal x simon #fireflyedit #scifiedit #tvedit #tvfilmsource #smallscreensource #tvcentric #usertvfilm #usertelevision #userstream #cinematv #cinemapix #filmtvcentral #filmtvdaily #firefly rewatch #objects in space #one gifset per ep #mygifs #my post #simal

[maxie-fallon]

Never expect me to be up to date on anything. I discover things in my own time thank you very much.

I'm the type of person who has no idea what's playing in cinemas at the moment but please let me rant at you about this show that got canceled 20 years ago. And yes I am just starting a rewatch of Firefly, how could you tell?

Anyway, if you want to hear me gush about space cowboy with a heart of gold that he hates, Captain Malcolm Reynolds, and the genius medic that he's totally not got the hots for Doctor Simon Tam then stay tuned

#firefly #mal reynolds #malcolm reynolds #simon tam #mal x simon #serenity #simon tam x malcolm reynolds #firefly show #firefly serenity

[kyuala]

QUEREMOS SIMÓN AMANTE DISCARADO PFVR KYUALINHA PFVRRRRRRRRR 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻😩😩😩😩😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 (implorando por pica e fanficagens

♡ faz gostoso ♡

par: simón hempe amante descarado e personal trainer x leitora casada | notas da autora: SEU PEDIDO É UMA ORDEM, DIVA JUJU! obrigada por comprarem essa ideia de maluca que começou aqui e seguiu pro que eu falei aqui... e finalmente veio aí! tentei um formato novo de hc, espero que gostem 🤍 | avisos: linguagem adulta, traição (óbvio), descrições de sexo explícitas, homem gostoso e meio maluco

♡ tudo começa quando você se matricula no pilates, bem madame pois vai às 15h da tarde e é bancada pelo teu marido

♡ teu marido que todo mundo pensa ser um anjo em forma de gente por te bancar mas na verdade ele não faz mais do que a obrigação porque é um BOSTA - mete chifre em você até o cu fazer bico (já perdeu a conta de quantas vezes já descobriu amantes dele e hoje em dia nem chora mais) e ganha mais dinheiro do que consegue gastar, então é óbvio que você se aproveita da situação para pegar o dinheiro dele e investir em você, tentar distrair a tua cabeça do pesadelo que é o teu casamento

♡ tudo começa mais do que bem, você se dá bem com a turma pequena com quem divide a aula, a instrutora é uma graça de pessoa e o exercício físico e novo ambiente de convívio social fazem você se sentir melhor

♡ enquanto isso, simón já tá de olho em você desde que você passou pela porta - já chegou até a perguntar pra recepcionista quem é a milf que começou o pilates umas semanas atrás (ele não usou essas palavras mas era o que ele tava pensando)

♡ com o tempo, você começa a ficar mais à vontade na academia em que fica o estúdio - sai mais para encher tua garrafinha de água no bebedouro, fica até mais tarde para tomar um banho e se trocar no vestiário mesmo e já até foi assistir às aulas de luta algumas vezes

♡ é nessas que simón aproveita para se aproximar de você, se usando da imagem de bom moço solícito para perguntar se você precisa de alguma coisa ou se está perdida - você dá risada e responde que não, mas agradece pela preocupação

♡ ele então pergunta o que você faz na academia (como se já não soubesse) e vocês engatam no assunto do pilates, conversando sobre a professora, as aulas, os exercícios - tudo que ele consegue pensar ele fala para alongar o assunto com você

♡ quando você acaba citando que começou a fazer pilates para ter um certo resultado (deixando de fora toda a parte do teu marido, é claro), ele vai prontamente dizer que você alcançaria um resultado muito melhor e muito mais rápido na musculação. se é verdade ou não? jamais saberemos (não é)

♡ você fica maravilhada com a informação, fazendo mais perguntas sobre e claramente se interessando, e ele, como o bom instrutor que é, se prontifica na hora para te ajudar nessa jornada; você só precisa começar a frequentar a área de musculação da academia também

♡ você diz que precisa falar com teu marido sobre a mudança antes de qualquer coisa (afinal, o dinheiro infelizmente ainda é dele) e ele faz uma cara de surpresa, perguntando "ah, você é casada?" como se já não tivesse reparado na aliança enorme e cheia de brilhantes que você usa - ele reparou sim, claro, ele só NÃO LIGA

♡ fica acordado então que ele aguarda tua resposta e precisando de qualquer coisa - qualquer coisa MESMO, como ele faz questão de frisar - é só chamar ele que ele tá sempre por ali disposto a ajudar

♡ chegando em casa você fala com o broxa do teu marido, que mal te dá atenção e diz que sim, "faz o que você quiser", na intenção de encerrar logo o assunto

♡ quando você volta à academia com a notícia, simón fica todo feliz por você e vocês começam o treino juntos, com ele te mostrando como se alongar e executar os exercícios adequadamente

♡ e, de início, ele é SUPER respeitoso (faz questão de te chamar de senhora porque sente tesão em lembrar que você é casada e não tá disponível pra ele pegar de qualquer jeito) e profissional - sempre mantém uma boa distância de você e só te dirige a palavra com respeito, te mostra como fazer tudo certinho e é bem solícito

♡ ele até tenta, mas TODO mundo na academia percebe o tratamento especial e diferenciado que você recebe - o gerente do turno já cansou de dar comida de rabo no simón por conta de cliente insatisfeito e são sempre os marmanjos que são deixados de lado toda vez que você chama o nome dele ou demonstra o mínimo de dificuldade em algum exercício

♡ com o tempo vocês vão se aproximando mais, falando sobre coisas que não estão necessariamente ligadas à academia, como o último capítulo da novela (ele não assistiu) ou quem foi o eliminado da semana no bbb (ele não tá acompanhando), ele sempre muito receptivo e de sorriso largo

♡ sempre pergunta do teu marido e ouve com toda a atenção do mundo quando você reclama de alguma coisa que ele fez, concorda com você em tudo mas nunca fala demais ou chega a te dar conselhos - isso estragaria todo o plano dele

♡ depois de um tempinho, as turmas de pilates são canceladas pois a instrutora vai se mudar e não conseguiram achar ninguém pra colocar no lugar (por que será? a pessoa que ficou responsável por isso não deu retorno...) - você fica chateada e comenta com simón, que verbaliza a preocupação dele com o fato de você ter que ir até a academia só para a musculação agora (como se fosse um grande peso) e você diz que tá tudo bem, não tem problema

♡ ele então aproveita a situação para perguntar se você tem alguma área de exercícios em casa, te lembrando da academia super bem equipada que tem no condomínio de alto padrão onde mora. ele logo se oferece para fazer o acompanhamento a domicílio então - você teria mais exclusividade no atendimento, ele poderia focar mais em você, você não precisaria se deslocar para a academia só para treinar por uma horinha e ir embora, ele até receberia mais já que os pagamentos seriam feitos diretamente a ele e não precisaria dar a parte da academia. uniria simplesmente todos os úteis a todos os agradáveis

♡ você acaba concordando (mais por ele do que por você porque, de novo, não seria problema nenhum continuar indo na academia) e é AÍ, minhas divas, que mora o perigo

♡ sem os olhares curiosos dos outros estudantes e supervisão constante dos colegas de trabalho, simón se assanha mil vezes mais na academia do teu prédio do que na antiga

♡ se aproxima bem mais de você durante os alongamentos e exercícios - de repente tudo que você faz parece que tá errado e ele, claro, tá sempre lá pra corrigir e ajudar

♡ coloca as mãos firmes na tua cintura, te guia do jeito que ele quer, se aproxima sempre que solicitado, gosta de ficar atrás de você quando você faz agachamento, faz questão de dar as instruções falando bem coladinho no teu ouvido por trás, dá risada baixinha e soprada quando você faz algum comentário

♡ e ele não é bobo nem nada, tá? fica sempre bem atento a como você reage a cada toque dele, como se não fosse tocada direito por ninguém há anos (e realmente não é), se segurando mas derretendo cada vez mais nos braços dele

♡ com o tempo as posições e a forma como ele te acompanha vão ficando cada vez mais sugestivas, mais grudadas, mais sensuais e você tenta afastar todos esses pensamentos da tua cabeça, afinal ele só tá fazendo o trabalho dele - você que é uma safada! né? (não) (na verdade sim, mas ele também é e é pior ainda)

♡ os treinos começam a ficar tão intensos que você, pela primeira vez, começa a ter aquela experiência de gozar só com os exercícios físicos - e na verdade não sabe se é só pelos exercícios físicos mesmo

♡ ele nota e te tranquiliza horroressss em relação a isso, dizendo que é super normal e acontece com todo mundo (não acontece), que pra ele não é nada de mais (ele fica morto de tesão) e que se você quiser vocês podem trabalhar mais em função disso (isso é verdade)

♡ a tensão entre vocês vai aumentando tanto que um dia você goza só de fazerem o alongamento grudadinhos, o que nunca tinha acontecido antes e te deixa toda paranóica, se culpando e achando que você tá sendo uma depravada e se aproveitando dele

♡ ele te tranquiliza, óbvio, e isso vai continuando e escalando de uma forma até vocês estarem fazendo praticamente dry humping no chão da academia

♡ vai aumentando a frequência e a intensidade das safadezas de vocês, claramente deixando de ser "apenas coisa do exercício físico mesmo", e se preciso ele vai falar mansinho no teu ouvido e te convencer de que tá tudo bem, isso não é traição - traição é o que teu marido faz com uma mulher gostosa e maravilhosa dessas que só faz amá-lo 💔

♡ e vai sempre escalonando, tá? numa semana não é traição ele estar tão juntinho, traição seria se ele estivesse se esfregando em você. aí na próxima não é traição vocês estarem se esfregando, traição seria se estivessem sem roupa. aí na próxima não é traição tirarem a roupa, afinal ele tá só te ajudando a aliviar estresse; traição seria se ele estivesse metendo dentro de você

♡ e ele leva isso muuuuito na paciência, tá? simón não tem problema ALGUM em ir te cozinhando no banho-maria porque ele sabe que assim consegue muito mais de você a longo prazo do que arriscando te comer logo de uma vez, te deixar se sentindo culpada e te fazer tirá-lo da tua vida

♡ e o resultado de tudo isso é uma tarde que ele diz precisar de um copo de água porque esqueceu a garrafinha, ou precisar de um banho porque vai direto do serviço para um compromisso, ou qualquer outro motivo que o leve pra dentro do teu apartamento

♡ e já dentro do teu apartamento ele não faz nada na primeira vez, tá? espera surgirem mais oportunidades pra você se sentir mais à vontade com ele lá

♡ e nessas ele não muda o modus operandi dele: vai sempre te levando na maior calma, no respeito, na pinta de bom moço solícito (até te ajuda a consertar algumas coisas no teu apartamento que teu marido jamais levantaria um dedo pra ajudar e sempre esquece de chamar alguém), vai ficando cada vez mais tempo lá dentro conversando contigo, te pede pra fazer um tour pelos cômodos e apresentar tudo pra ele, cozinha pra você e te mostra como preparar umas receitinhas saudáveis que ele recomenda

♡ e é assim que ele te convence a levar essas escapadinhas de vocês pra tua cama, afinal não é traição ele meter gostoso em você no lugar que você divide com o teu marido, né? traição seria se tivesse sentimento, se teu marido não tivesse feito isso primeiro - na cabeça dele chumbo trocado não dói e ele vai te falar isso se for preciso

♡ e vai levar o caso de vocês o mais longe possível, te come de absolutamente todos os jeitos e formas imagináveis: na tua cama, na academia do prédio, na escada de emergência, no teu carro, na cozinha, na sala, brinca contigo no elevador e não tá NEM AÍ pras câmeras

♡ teu marido SABE o que tá rolando e nem fala nada porque 1) é um otário broxa que sabe que merece e 2) jamais conseguiria pegar o simón no soco, o moreno se garante. e daí fica por isso mesmo 🎀

♡ sempre que o simón topa com teu marido quando tá saindo do teu apartamento é com um sorrisão no rosto, cumprimenta todo folgadinho e pode até soltar um comentário debochado ou outro tipo "se ela estiver cansadinha não liga não, viu? o treino hoje foi bem pesado" ou "hoje ela ficou bem doloridinha mas relaxa que amanhã eu tô aí de novo pra cuidar dela" 😋

♡ ADORA te comer e perguntar onde que tá o otário do teu marido, se ele consegue te comer do jeito que ele come, qual pau você prefere, tudo - sente um tesão do CARALHO em ser amante, tá? é surreal

♡ e ele SABE que o sexo com ele é infinitas vezes melhor e inacreditável de bom, então vai se usar disso toda vez que você tentar acabar com o casinho de vocês por algum motivo - uma vibe bem "deixa disso, princesa, vem aqui pra eu te lembrar por que é que você tá comigo"

♡ sim, com ELE, porque com o tempo o caso de vocês passa a ser mais público - vocês vão juntos no mercado comprar coisinhas saudáveis pra você, você deixa ele de carro na academia depois dele passar a noite na tua casa quando teu marido tá viajando a trabalho, até pra eventos público que teu marido tá presente você leva ele, então na cabeça dele o relacionamento você tem com ELE, aquilo que você tem com teu marido é só de fachada e não tem significado algum

♡ o final vocês que decidem, mas pra MIM o bônus aqui seria ele se apaixonando por você e tentando te convencer a largar o teu marido pra ficar com ele. fica todo romântico e desesperadinho por você, passa a ter ciúmes de você com o teu MARIDO e começa a ficar muito mais briguento e esquentadinho pra cima dele. ele só quer te amar e viver um romance com você ok 💔

♡ resumindo: simón personal trainer e amante descarado é um safado que te conquista com a pinta de bom moço e respeitoso, te convence a trair teu marido e não sente o mínimo remorso de te comer na tua cama e fazer teu marido de corno do jeitinho que deve ser ♡

masterlist principal | masterlist de lsdln

#passando mal aqui alguem chama ambulancia #la sociedad de la nieve #lsdln #lsdln cast #lsdln x reader #lsdln smut #lsdln imagine #simon hempe #simón hempe #simón hempe x reader #simon hempe x reader #asks #idollete #mari.doc

[iluvrockyroad]

Live slug reaction

#simon tam #mal reynolds #malcolm reynolds #firefly #firefly series #serenity #firefly tv #firefly show #firefly meme #Simon tam x Malcolm Reynolds #malcolm Reynolds x simon tam #gay firefly #gay simon tam #serenity firefly #live slug meme #live slug reaction

[chrryouis]

volevo condividere pure qua il tracollo psicologico che mi sta venendo ad essere l’unica ottimista su twitter riguardo a mimmo e simone, sometimes i’m god’s strongest soldier

#un professore #simone balestra #simone x mimmo #mimmo bruni #mimmone #io non ce la posso fare #ho mal di pancia #ma chi me l’ha fatto fare

[b00inazkaban]

MASTERLIST #2

Navigation!

Let me know if there are any characters you’d like added and I’ll look into it! :)

MARVEL:

☆ Tony Stark

☆ Steve Rogers

☆ Bruce Banner

☆ Natasha Romanoff

☆ Clint Barton

☆ Bucky Barnes

☆ Sam Wilson

☆ Peter Parker

☆ Thor Odison

☆ Loki Laufeyson

☆ Dr. Stephen Strange

☆ Peter Quill

☆ Gamora

☆ Drax the destroyer

☆ Rocket the Racoon

☆ Mantis

☆ Groot

Poly Requests:

STRANGER THINGS:

☆ Steve Harrington: Steve Harrington x FtM reader**

☆ Robin Buckley :

☆ Nancy Wheeler:

☆ Eddie Munson:

☆ Johnathan Byers:

☆ Argyle:

☆ Billy Hargrove:

☆ Mike Wheeler: Little!Mike x GN!CG!Reader

☆ Dustin Henderson

☆ Will Byers

☆ Lucas Sinclair

☆ Eleven Hopper

☆ Max Mayfield

☆ Jim Hopper:

☆ Joyce Byers:

☆ Dmitri Antonov:

Poly Requests:

HARRY POTTER/MARAUDER:

☆ Harry Potter:

☆ Ron Weasley: CG!Ron Weasley x Little!GN!reader

☆ Hermione Granger:

☆ Fred Weasley: CG!Fred Weasley x Little!Fem!Reader

☆ George Weasley: George Weasley x reader ; CG!George Weasley x LittleMale!Reader

☆ Neville Longbottom: Sub!Neville x Dom!Reader**

☆ Draco Malfoy:

☆ Blaise Zambini:

☆ Enzo Berkshire:

☆ Mattheo Riddle:

☆ Theo Nott:

☆ Pansy Parkinson:

Marauders Era or Lighting Era:

☆ Lucius Malfoy:

☆ Narcissa Malfoy:

☆ Severus Snape:

☆ Bellatrix Lestrange:

☆ Barty Crouch Jr. :

☆ Evan Rosier:

☆ Pandora Rosier:

☆ Zahara Zambini:

☆ Regulus Black:

☆ Sirius Black:

☆ Remus Lupin:

☆ Lily Evans:

☆ Marlene McKinnon:

☆ Mary McDonald:

☆ Dorcas Meadows:

FANTASTIC BEASTS:

☆ Newt Scamander:

☆ Thesus Scammander:

☆ Jacob Kowalski:

☆ Queenie Goldstein:

☆ Albus Dumbledore (young):

☆ Gellart Grindlewald (young):

Poly Requests:

CRIMINAL MINDS:

☆Aaron Hotchner

☆ Jason Gideon

☆ Spencer Reid

☆ Derek Morgan

☆ JJ/ Jennifer Jareau

☆ Elle Greenaway

☆ Penelope Garcia

☆ Emily Prentiss

☆ David Rossi

Poly Requests:

BRIDGERTON:

☆ Anthony Bridgerton

☆ Benedict Bridgerton

☆ Colin Briderton

☆ Daphne Bridgerton

☆ Eloise Bridgerton

☆ Simon Basset

☆ Penelope Fetherington

☆ Queen Charlotte (Young)

☆ King George (Young)

Poly Requests:

Queen charlotte x reader x King George

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES:

☆ Leonardo: NSFW alphabet

☆ Raphael:

☆ Donnatelo:

☆ Michelangelo: Mikey x Reader

☆ April O'Neil:

☆ Casey Jones:

Poly Requests:

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; April 4-in-1; turtles are manspreading and you want payback 😚

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; Casey tries to flirt with reader but she puts down the idea and the turtles are proud

TOP GUN:

☆ Pete Mitchell "Maverick"

☆ Bradley Bradshaw "Rooster"

☆ Jake Seresin "Hangman"

☆ Natasha Trace "Phoenix"

☆ Robert Floyd "Bob"

Poly Requests:

THE HOBBIT/LOTR:

☆ Thorin

☆ Bilbo

☆ Fili

☆ Kili

☆ Dwalin

☆ Bofur

☆ Bard

☆ Legolas

☆ Tauriel

☆ Thuranduil

Poly Requests:

TWILIGHT:

☆ Carlisle Cullen

☆ Esme Cullen

☆ Emmet Cullen

☆ Rosalie Cullen

☆ Alice Cullen

☆ Jasper Cullen: CG!Jasper Hale x nb!little!reader

☆ Edward Cullen

☆ Bella Cullen/Swan

☆ Jacob Black

☆ Garrett

The Volturi:

☆ Aro

☆ Caius

☆ Marcus

Poly Requests:

THE HUNGER GAMES:

☆ Katniss Everdeen

☆ Petta Mellark

☆ Finnick Odair

☆ Johanna Mason

☆ Haymitch Abernathy

Poly Requests:

LUCIFER:

☆ Lucifer Morningstar

☆ Mazikeen

☆ Amenadeil

☆ Chole Decker

☆ Linda Martin

Poly Requests:

How To Train Your Dragon:

☆ Hiccup Haddock

☆ Astrid Hofferson

☆ Snotlout

☆ Ruffnut

☆ Tuffnut

Poly Requests:

Across The SpiderVerse:

☆ Miles Morales

☆ Miguel O'Hara

Spider thoughts!

☆ Peter B. Parker

Spider thoughts!

☆ Hobie Brown

☆ Gwen Stacy

☆ Spider-Noir

Spider thoughts!

Poly Requests:

Descendants:

☆ Mal

☆ Evie

☆ Carlos

☆ Jay

☆ Gil

☆ Harry

☆ Uma

Poly Requests:

MATCHUPS/MOODBOARDS:

☆ @thoughtfulcreatornight x Raphael matchup

☆ Anonymous x Remus Lupin matchup

꧁〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎꧂

I’ve redone my masterlist because I was vey unhappy with my first one, and I wanted to add pictures to go with it! I’ll also be adding all my new work onto here and my old work will be on the first masterlist! Love y’all! 💗

#b00inazkaban #fanfiction #tmnt bayverse #tmnt fandom #fantastic beasts #stranger things #harry potter #poly marauders x reader #bridgerton #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer tv #hunger games #twilight #the hobbit #lotr x reader #lotr fandom #middle earth #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #bayverse tmnt #marvel #marvel x reader #marauders #httyd #across the spiderverse #descendents #atsv

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 12: Animals

Joel makes sure Bambi stays safe from Simon. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-11 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence (torture and death.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 5.5k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

August 29, 2023

The howl was distinctive. Three shorter cries and one longer one. 

You knew what that meant. 

Your morning rounds to collect prey from traps had been fruitful - netting you two rabbits so far - and you’d been able to forage for some vegetables and roots, too. It was getting to be late enough in the summer that you knew you needed to start preserving more. Winters were harsh and lean. You no longer struggled like you had 20 years ago, back when you were barely out of your teens and still trying to figure out how to safely cook let alone survive an apocalypse, but it still took conscious effort to not starve to death when the cold weather came. Today’s harvest would help with that. 

But only if the intruders on your land didn’t try to take it from you. 

You clicked your tongue at Nike and gave her ribs a gentle squeeze before urging her into a trot and then a canter toward the source of the howling. 

It didn’t take you long to find, responding to the howl with your designated whistle, starting low and ending high. The dog howled again and you were able to tell where she was, finding her before too long. 

Your other dogs had beaten you there. It looked like Ruger, one of your Belgian Malinois, had been the one to find the three men and one horse who had wandered onto your land. She was standing, teeth bared, in front of them, keeping watch for her sisters. Gattling, the other Bel Mal - both from the same litter, given to you a few years back by a man who’d taken up breeding and training attack dogs at the end of the world - had them at the back. The herding dogs - Venus and Juno - were at their sides, pushing the men closer and closer together. 

You raised your shot gun. 

“Who the fuck are you and why’re you on my land?” 

“Why don’t you lower your weapon,” the man on the horse smiled. “Then we can have a nice, civilized conversation.” 

“Don’t need one,” you replied, giving a short, sharp whistle. The dogs pressed closer. Ruger snarled. One of the men on foot jumped. You whistled again, the dogs’ attention back on you. 

“Ruger, Gattling,” you said. “Savvy.” 

They took off, back toward the cabin and your horse paddock. The men watched them run for a moment. 

“Assuming you’re Texas?” The man ignored the remaining dogs at his feet, using the name you’d picked up in decades of trading with passers by. “Heard you trade for horses, was wondering if you had some you’d be willing to part with and what the going rate would be?” 

You looked him over, the horse he was riding. You knew that horse. 

“Looks like you already got one of mine,” you said. “But I know you didn’t get him from me. What did you do to Jennifer.” 

Your gun was still up, leveled at the man on horseback. 

“Got the horse off a girl who got bit,” he said before he smirked and shook his head a little. “She sure was a pretty thing, though.”

You adjusted your grip on the gun and bit back a snarl. You’d liked Jennifer, she was a sweet girl. She’d left the Kansas City QZ as it falling apart, too young to remember much of life before the world ended. She’d reminded you of yourself at the start of the end of the world, figuring out how to be on her own while learning how to survive. She’d stayed with you for a few weeks after she’d stumbled upon you when she got separated from a group. You taught her some things, like how to trap and track animals, what to avoid when foraging. She’d left looking for a settlement you’d heard rumors of near the coast. You’d always hoped that she’d made it. Apparently she hadn’t. You didn’t know if it was infected or the men standing in front of you that did it but it didn’t matter. You knew you didn’t trust them. 

“When.” 

“Few weeks back,” he said. 

“She who told you about me?” You asked. 

He smirked. 

“Not exactly,” he said. “Been looking for you for a while. You’re a hard woman to find.” 

“Plan to stay that way,” you said, finger drifting to the trigger. “I’ve got four rounds in this, don’t remember the last time I missed. You can turn, go and forget you ever found me. Or, I can kill you. But you’re not leavin’ with another of my horses. Up to you.” 

The men looked at each other for a moment before the man on the horse gave you a nod. 

“We’ll be on our way.” 

He tipped his hat to you and you kept your gun trained on him. You gave another whistle and the remaining dogs backed down and you watched them until you couldn’t see them on the horizon anymore. 

It was just two weeks before someone found you again. 

His name was Mitchum. 

July, 2026

Joel’s hand was on your skin when you woke up. 

You’d drifted back into consciousness instead of shocked into it, your body relaxed and enveloped by his. His breath was warm against your head, his nose in your hair. His fingers were pressed into your skin, making little indentations on you in the shape of him and you were acutely aware of his hips and stomach and chest, his legs curled around the back of you. 

It was an odd feeling, strangely connected and disconnected to your body all at once. You could feel the blood moving through your limbs and the heat of Joel against you but your skin was almost numb. You weren’t in pain, in spite of being slammed into Ares’ stall door and thrown to the ground. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want to disturb this quiet peace that had settled over you. 

But as you slowly settled back into yourself, you realized something. There was an unfamiliar sensation between your thighs, slick and cool. You frowned and slowly slipped your palm into your shorts. You delicately traced your slit before bringing your hand in front of your face, fingers glistening. 

You stared at them for a second. You were wet. Something over night had made you get wet. 

It had been years since you’d last been wet because you wanted someone. Everything had been protection, your body trying to preserve itself, to make it hurt less. This was different. You weren’t sure how you knew but you did. Your face got hot. 

There was a tightness in you, you realized as you became more aware of your body again, a heat that you weren’t quite sure what to do with. All you knew was that Joel didn’t feel close enough to you. 

Just as you were thinking that, considering pressing yourself back against him so you could feel the outline of him more clearly to see if that eased the ache, his grip on you tightened and he gave you a gentle squeeze. His breathing shifted against you and he pressed his face closer to you. You quickly pressed your fingers into the leg of your shorts, wiping them clean. 

“Joel,” you said softly. 

He adjusted at your back. 

“Mornin’,” he sounded tired, only half awake. You swallowed past the knot in your throat. His nose nuzzled into your hair. You hesitated for a moment put pressed yourself back against him, the aching tightness in you easing at the contact.You focused on the feel of him for a moment, all firm but gentle. You weren’t sure how long you lay there like that with him when his hold on you loosened. 

“You OK?” His voice was gruff but tender, quiet. You pressed yourself back a little closer and his hand sank deeper into your flesh. You nodded ever so slightly. “Good.” 

His hand spread a little more against you and your smaller hand went over the top of his, a low, soft whimper slipping from your lips. 

“Bambi,” his voice was low and warm. 

“Yes?” 

“Should…” he took a deep, shaky breath against you. “Should go find Maria.” 

“Yes,” your voice trembled as you said it. 

“S’it OK if we stay like this another minute?” he sounded strained. You pressed your hand against his and he gasped quietly. “I just… I want…” 

“Yes,” you breathed, cutting him off. 

He held you like that for a few minutes, both of you silent outside of your quiet, needy breaths. 

“C’mon,” he said eventually, pulling his hand away from you. “Should get moving.” 

You separated from him slowly, reluctantly, and went upstairs to get changed. 

It felt like you should be grateful for the distance. A chance to reset your mind after it had been clouded by his proximity all night. But, even as the heat and tightness in you faded, you still felt like he was too far away. You wanted him closer. 

You shook yourself mentally and checked the bruise at your side before you gently cleaned between your legs. You put on Joel’s most recent shirt over a t-shirt before heading downstairs. 

“Ready?” Joel asked, sitting politely on your couch. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. 

“I can’t figure out Ben’s role in all this,” Joel said, his hands in his pockets as the two of you walked through the hazy dawn toward Maria and Tommy’s. “Simon’s a piece of shit but…” 

“I met him once,” you cut Joel off. “Before.” 

He turned to look at you so quick it made you jump a little. 

“He hurt you before?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous. 

“No,” you said, though you weren’t sure that was entirely true. Someone had told Mitchum where you were. He was on the last group to come through. “But he wasn’t happy with me then, either. He and his buddies showed up on a horse I’d trained, they either took him from a dead woman or cut it away from her. So I told them they wouldn’t get any horses from me. They didn’t like that much.” 

You hadn’t remembered him until that morning, just an ominous familiarity hanging over you whenever you looked at him. But you knew him. He’d been one of the two men on their feet, your dogs had nearly taken him down at the ankles. 

You didn’t tell Joel about your suspicion, that he’d sold you out to Mitchum when you’d refused to give him a horse.

Joel nodded slowly as the two of you came up to Tommy and Maria’s front walk. He knocked on the door and you could hear the shrieking toddler laugh from inside somewhere. You smiled at the sound. 

It took a minute for Maria to open the door, William on her hip. 

“Not a great morning,” she said, a little frazzled. “What’s up?” 

“We got a problem,” Joel said, his hand going to your lower back as he stepped a little closer to you. “Can’t wait.” 

***

Joel fought to keep himself under control as you told Maria and Tommy everything that had happened the night before. How Simon and Ben had cornered you in the stable, how Simon told Ben to watch how he marked you so they could pass your death off as an accident, how they’d trapped you in the stall, willing to wait for one hoof to come down on your body in just the right way. 

He clenched is fist. His blood was hot. Someone had tried to hurt you, pulled you away from right beside to him and tried to kill you. 

“Know where they are now?” Maria asked, her face hard. 

“If they got a lick of sense they took off,” Tommy said, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes raked over you again and again. “No way they stayed in town.” 

Maria nodded. 

“Joel, Tommy, go out and bring them back,” she said. “You’re two of our best trackers, I trust that you’ll find them. And when I say bring them back, I mean bring them back. They’ll face trial and punishment assuming they’re found guilty. You’re not judge, jury and executioner here.” 

“They ain’t gonna come quietly, baby,” Tommy frowned. “May not have another choice…” 

“Don’t get yourselves hurt but do what you can,” she said. “Take some horses and track them down as best you can. If you haven’t found them in two days, come back.” 

You wrapped your arms around your waist and clenched your jaw and Joel stepped a little closer to you. You leaned into him. 

“Lemme grab some stuff,” Tommy said to the two of you. “Meet you at the stables in half an hour.” 

Joel walked you to the stables and you insisted you were fine to be in there alone, already going about the work of getting his and Tommy’s horses ready to go. He reluctantly left you to it, going home to quickly pack a bag of his own before going back to you. 

Being that far from you made him uneasy. He was certain Tommy was right, that Simon and Ben had left town. But it made him nervous. You were in danger and he was leaving you alone. He was about to leave you even more alone than he was now. It felt wrong. He should be close to you, protecting you. 

But this was better, it would keep you safer. He knew that. He just had to convince himself of it. 

You were finishing saddling up Tommy’s horse when Joel made it back to the stables. He wordlessly started working on his own, the two of you putting the tack on together. 

“I’m gonna go check their houses,” Tommy said, mounting his horse. “See you up front in a few?” 

He gave Joel a meaningful look. Joel narrowed his eyes at him. 

“See you there.” 

Joel gave Tommy a moment to get out of earshot before he turned to you. Your arms were crossed tightly over yourself again, your eyes wide and doe-like. You looked afraid. It made Joel’s chest hurt. 

“Hey,” he said gently. Your wide eyes met his for a moment before tracing over his face. “Nothing is going to happen to you…” 

You frowned, your eyebrows knitting together. 

“What?” Joel frowned, too. 

“You think that’s what I’m worried about?” You asked. “Joel, I don’t want you going out there and getting hurt because of me, I…” 

He stepped closer to you and you went silent, looking up at him. 

“Bambi,” he said softly, looking into your eyes, into you. “Nothin’ is going to happen to me.” 

“Joel…” 

He completely closed the distance between you and you dropped your arms to your sides so the front of you was just inches from the front of him. His hand slowly, delicately, came to your face and cupped your cheek, his thumb against your cheekbone, his fingers wrapping back and down around the column of your throat. It felt like he was holding the entire world in his palm, your wide eyes soft and earnest. 

“Not going to let anyone hurt you, Sweetheart,” he said, voice quiet. “I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to keep you safe.” 

He leaned his head toward yours, slowly and deliberately, giving you every opportunity to pull away, You didn’t take it. Instead, you stayed stock still and your breath caught in your throat with a quiet little gasp when he pressed his lips to your forehead, his nose in your hair. He kissed your soft, smooth skin for what felt like an eternity but nowhere near long enough. Joel pulled back from you ever so slightly, his forehead dropping to your own, his nose brushing yours. You closed your eyes for a moment, your breaths coming in shuddering little pants, your lips so close to his it almost hurt.  

“I will protect you,” he whispered. “I promise you I will.” 

Joel met Tommy at the main gate, feeling your eyes on him as he rode away, and the two of them set out, silent, into the foggy morning air. They started by circling the city, finding the footprints in the mud that gathered around the fence that surrounded the town. 

“Fuckers,” Tommy muttered, looking up and Joel as he did. “Think we can track ‘em?” 

“I’m not comin’ back ’til we do,” Joel said, his voice dark. 

The tracks disappeared into the woods and, once the two of them were far enough away from Jackson, Joel looked at Tommy. 

Joel had come to admire his little brother in the years since he’d come to Jackson, not that he would admit that. 

For a long time, he’d felt like more of a father to Tommy than a brother. Joel was just six years older than him but, once their parents had both died, it felt like he had to step up. Sarah was barely a year old, Tommy was just 17 and on the verge of flunking out of high school. He had to pay the rent and put food on the table and make sure his brother didn’t drop out and keep a baby alive. It was like he was treading water at best, damn near drowning most of the time, but he’d kept it together. He’d all but begged Tommy to join the military, do something that would keep him out of prison and keep his feet on the ground. 

And then the Gulf War started and Joel spent years horrified that he might have gotten his brother hurt, gotten his brother killed. 

Tommy came back different. Instead of getting picked up for shoplifting, he started getting picked up for brawling. Joel had to bail him out again and again, ended up on the hook for Tommy’s rent after he cosigned for his apartment, needed to help him figure out a new car after Tommy wrapped his around a tree. Eventually, he told Tommy that he needed to get his shit together. He could either start working contractor jobs with Joel or he’d be on his own. Joel couldn’t keep letting Tommy derail things for him and Sarah and it killed him to give him that ultimatum. 

But Tommy managed it. Mostly. He still wound up in trouble sometimes. Joel still had to make sure he was actually fucking eating real food and not just jerky and candy from the gas station or pick him up at the jail after a scuffle. But he was getting close, so damn close, to having the life Joel knew he could have if he just tried for it when the world ended. When Joel’s world ended. When Sarah died. 

Things devolved then. Tommy was his only reason for living, for a while. There were times he wasn’t enough to stick around for but Joel just kept on living, anyway. He often wasn’t sure why. 

They did bad things then, when Joel stopped caring. They hurt innocent people, killed innocent people, helped people even worse than them gain power and control in the increasingly dangerous and chaotic hellscape that had once been the United States. A lot of people suffered because of them. But they’d survived. For better or worse, they’d lived. 

Joel wasn’t sure why, for a while. He supposed it was stupid to believe there was a purpose for it all, like the universe was suddenly going to succumb to reason after everything that had happened, but it felt like there had to be something. 

Now, he knew why. 

He had Ellie, of course. And now you. That was reason enough. But Tommy… Tommy had managed to actually make something of himself in spite of everything. He’d found Maria, made a place for himself in Jackson - and actually made the damn place better - and he’d become the father that Joel always knew he had the potential to be. 

It threw Joel a bit, sometimes, that Tommy was the one who looked out for him. The one Joel needed to come to for help. He didn’t like it, that loss of control. But there were times he still needed his brother.

Times like this one. 

“I know what Maria said…” Joel began but Tommy cut him off. 

“They ain’t comin’ back to Jackson.” 

Joel was silent for a moment. 

“You know what you’re sayin’, Tommy?” 

“I’m sayin’ that we’re going to handle this shit the way we used to,” Tommy said. “Wasn’t always right but it was always a way to protect what matters. And she don’t just matter to you, Joel. She might be your girl but I care about her, too. She already feels like family. She might be a pain in the ass but she’s my pain in the ass. Anyone wants to fuck with her will have to go through me. 

“Besides. Can’t have men like that around Maria and William and Ellie. Ain’t safe. I’m sure they’ll put up a decent fight ‘fore we kill ‘em. Won’t even be a lie, then.” 

Joel nodded once. 

“Good.” 

They tracked the men through the day, the two of them clearly hadn’t stopped after fleeing the day before and it was close to nightfall when Joel started noticing signs of them slowing down. Footsteps were dragging through the brush and the mud, leaves were crushed or stripped away from places where branches had been grabbed for support. 

Joel was on edge, the hair on the back of his neck on end when Tommy gave a short whistle. When Joel looked at him, he indicated with his eyes what he was concerned with. A tree just off the trail, a lower branch snapped like someone too big had tried to use it to leverage themselves up. Joel nodded slightly and only once. They had to be close, very very close. He slung his rifle off his back and tucked it against his body where he could quickly aim and fire it. He had the sense that it wouldn’t be long until he needed it. 

Joel was right. 

It was only a few minutes later that, with a desperate wail, Simon leapt at Joel, a knife clutched in his ruddy hand. Joel reacted quickly, swinging the butt of the rifle around and slamming it into the man’s head. He dropped like a stone to the ground and Joel and Tommy quickly dismounted as Ben charged forward. Joel raised his rifle and shot him in the hip, the man screaming and falling to the ground, writhing in pain. 

“Stick with him,” Joel said, nodding to Ben. “This one’s mine.” 

Simon was still shaking off Joel’s hit when he dropped a knee to the prone man’s chest, ripping the knife from his grip and pressing it to his throat. 

Part of Joel knew he shouldn’t take any pleasure in this. That hurting and killing someone - even someone like Simon - should take something from him. And it did once, what felt like long ago. But it didn’t anymore, not when hurting and killing would keep you safe. He liked keeping you safe.

Simon’s hands clawed and Joel’s arms and he ignored it, cocking his head slightly as he looked at the man below him. 

“You got a few options here, Simon,” Joel said, his voice flat. 

“Fuck you,” he spat. 

“Not one of ‘em,” Joel replied. “You ain’t making it out of this alive, you decided that for yourself when you put hands on her…” 

“Your obsession with that fucking cunt…” 

Joel curled the hand not holding the knife into a fist and brought it down quick and hard on Simon’s face, making him cry out. Joel felt the man’s nose collapse below his knuckles. 

“You only got so many breaths left,” Joel said, flexing his fingers, knuckles stinging. “Wouldn’t waste ‘em making shit worse for yourself. Cooperate and I’ll give you a quick death. Don’t and I’ve got all night.” 

“Fuck you,” he panted through gritted teeth. “And fuck her, too.” 

Joel sighed and grabbed Simon’s nose roughly between his fingers, making him cry out. Joel twisted it sharply, harshly, to the side, almost pulling his flesh apart. He could feel the cartilage moving under his touch, the gush of blood, the thrashing of the man below him. It was satisfying, this form of justice. He was doing something, he was making sure that he wasn’t going to fail with you. It felt, maybe not good, but right. 

He released Simon’s nose and grabbed a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up at Joel. 

“Haven’t done this in a while,” Joel said, a little breathless. “Thinkin’ I should make the most of it, what do you think, Tommy?” 

Joel looked over at him. He was standing over Ben, gun trained on him. 

“Just thinkin’ that we needed somethin’ fun to do tonight,” he said. 

Joel smirked. 

“Just thinkin’ that, too.” 

“Wait,” Ben said, his hands up by his face in surrender. “Wait, please, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, I just don’t want to die here, please…” 

Tommy looked at Joel who shrugged. Joel had no intention of letting him live. Neither did Tommy. Ben didn’t need to know that. 

“We can work somethin’ out,” Tommy said, gun still aimed at the man on the ground. “Answer my brother’s questions and we’ll talk.” 

“You workin’ with anyone else in Jackson?” Joel asked. 

“No,” Ben said quickly, voice panicky. Joel bought it. He was answering too fast and was too afraid for it to be a lie. “No, it was just us, just the two of us, I thought it was too far but…” 

Joel looked down at Simon. 

“That true?” 

Simon just panted for breath and glared up at Joel. He thought for a moment and pulled the knife from his throat and put the tip of it against his eye, a fraction of an inch away. 

“Asked if that was true,” Joel said. “Better have a fuckin’ answer.” 

“It’s true,” Simon said quickly. “It’s true, it’s true. There wasn’t anyone else involved, just us, please…” 

“Anything you left behind that’s going to hurt her?” Joel asked, looking back toward Ben but keeping the knife near Simon’s eye. 

“No,” Ben said quickly. Again, it rang true. “No, we thought… we figured the horse would do it and it wasn’t like we’d planned it for long, we thought it would look like an accident, please I’m begging you…” 

Joel delicately pressed the tip of the blade into Simon’s bottom eyelid. His breathing picked up but he stayed still as a tiny bead of blood appeared on the knife. 

“He telling us the truth?” He asked. 

“Yes,” Simon said quickly, eyes shut tight. “Fuck, yes Miller, we just decided to, please…” 

Joel nodded before pulling the knife from Simon’s eye. 

“Why’d you do it?” He asked as the man slowly, cautiously opened his eyes. “Why did you decide to go after her?” 

Simon looked afraid now. Like he finally, truly understood what was about to happen. He swallowed and Joel watched his throat working, aware for a moment that it was one of the last times his body would perform that function. 

“I didn’t have shit after the outbreak,” he said, starting to hyperventilate. “Everything I knew, everything I loved was gone and then I had my place here and she took that from me. She fuckin’ took it and she disrespected me at every goddamn turn and I just…” 

“She didn’t take a damn thing,” Joel was talking through gritted teeth. You hadn’t even wanted Simon’s fucking job and he’d tried to kill you for it. “You lost it by being a fucking idiot and you tried to take it out on her.” 

He seemed to recognize then that there was no merciful way out of this. There never had been. His face twisted into something rage-filled and hateful, snarling up at Joel. 

“She doesn’t belong here. She’s barely even fucking human, she’s more like those goddamn horses! She’s fucking feral and I was the only one willing to try to break her…” 

Joel let out a roar as he brought his fist down on Simon’s face again and again and again, until he was barely breathing, his features nothing but bloody pulp. 

“Joel,” Tommy said as Joel panted, his hand damaged and coated in red. “Just finish the fucker.” 

Joel nodded once, pulling his knee off Simon’s chest and sitting back on his heels, thrusting his knife low in the man’s stomach. Simon managed a grunt of pain but nothing else as Joel dragged the knife up through his innards until he met his breastbone. He stood up, looking at the man’s mangled body. 

“He’ll die slow,” Tommy’s gun was still on Ben. 

“Better than he deserved,” Joel said, stalking over to Ben and jerking his head so Tommy stepped to the side. He went down on one knee near Ben’s head, a perverse proposal. “Another few questions, just for you. Then we can talk about a deal.” 

There wouldn’t be a deal. 

“Please,” Ben whimpered, blood coating his stomach now. His skin was pale. 

“You knew her,” Joel said. “From before. That right?” 

“Yes,” he nodded quickly. “Yeah, I did. Traveled with some guys for a bit, heard she’d trade for horses. She wouldn’t trade with us, pissed off the others, made life fuckin’ difficult for a while and I didn’t think he was going to try to kill her, please, I swear I didn’t think it was going to go that far, I promise I won’t even look at her again, please.” 

“Before,” Joel said, fighting to keep calm, remembering what you’d told him that morning. It felt like so long ago now, waking up next to you, feeling you in his arms. You trusted him. You trusted him to be near you, to touch you, to protect you. You didn’t trust anyone else but you trusted him. “Before you came to Jackson, when you tried to trade with her. You do anything to her then?” 

“Told some folks where to find her,” he said. “That’s all.” 

Joel nodded. 

“Anyone else you know outside Jackson know where she is?” He asked. 

“No,” he said quickly. “No, haven’t talked to anyone since I got here. Please, I promise I won’t…” 

Joel thrust the knife into his throat before he finished his sentence, his eyes going wide in shock before he went limp. Joel watched Ben’s blood pool on the dirt, soaking into the soil at first before collecting in a thick puddle, dark and warm on the ground. He pulled the knife free and wiped it on the man’s jeans before he stood, putting it away. 

Tommy looked up toward the darkening sky for a moment. 

“Head back about half a mile then stop for the night?” he said. “Put some distance between us and the bodies ‘fore the animals get to ‘em.” 

“Yeah,” Joel nodded. “Sounds good.” 

Joel and Tommy agreed on a story as they set up camp for the night, one that was almost the truth. The two men jumped them. They’d had no choice but to shoot them. Unfortunate but Jackson would be safe. 

Getting back to town was faster than getting out of it, no longer needing to actively track the men and instead just find their way back home, and the sun was still up when they reached the gates. 

Joel wasn’t expecting you to be at the stables when he got there. It was late enough that you should be at the mess hall for dinner or home and he had every intention of settling his horse down as quickly as he could before finding you but he didn’t need to. You were curled up in a corner of the stables near the tack, your eyes closed, head resting against the stable wall. You were in the same clothes you’d been wearing yesterday. Joel frowned. Hadn’t you been home? He unbuckled his saddle and put it away before kneeling next to you, taking your face in his large hand the same way he’d done the morning before. You startled, eyes shooting open, afraid for a moment before softening when you realized it was him. 

“Joel,” you gasped it, throwing your arms around his neck, your whole body following, nearly knocking him down. He hesitated for a moment before he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. “I was so worried, I didn’t… I’m so glad you’re back.” 

“Me too, Sweetheart,” one of his hands went to the back of your head, holding you gently. 

“Did you…” you began, but he cut you off, still holding onto you. 

“They’re dead,” he said. Your breath caught for a moment and he pulled you closer. You were soft and warm and whole and alive. He’d kept you safe. He hadn’t failed you, not this time. “Not going to hurt you again.” 

“Joel…” your voice trailed off, sounding sad. He pulled back from you enough that he could see your face, your eyes searching his. He brushed your hair back. 

“C’mon,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: FERAL JOEL

FERAL JOEL

FERAL JOELLLLLLLL :D

And everything else about this chapter, too 😌 Seriously, these two are sooooooo close to stuff happening. So so so so so so so so close, I promise they are.

I do have an alerts blog! Follow and subscribe to get an alert when a new chapter is posted. I will only post each chapter once so you're not being spammed, promise! 😊

Thanks for enduring the slow burn of it all, everyone, and thank you for being here. Love you!!

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#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #yearling #joel miller x oc

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 12

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: just having a bit of a break with some messiness.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Mom, you have to sit down,” Simone nags as you pace, clutching your lower back as you chew your thumb. 

You haven’t been able to sit still. Not since Hansen and Pete disappeared into his ‘office’, rather, the garage. You stop and look at your daughter as she holds her book closed on her lap. She hasn’t opened it all night. Her concern plummets in your stomach.

“Sorry, I–”

“I put your cushion on the couch,” she says and points to the sofa where she’s stacked the two pillows against the arm.

“Aw, you’re so sweet, honey,” you go to the couch and stare at the donut cushion. You brace the back and slowly angle yourself down. The tension eases enough for you to sigh.

“What about the medicine the doctor gave you?” She asks.

“After dinner,” you hiss as you try to get comfortable, “can’t have them on an empty stomach.

“Mommy,” Malik pops his head up from scribbling with his crayons, ���I’ll go get Donny!”

“Mal–”

He’s already running from the room before you can stop him. You put your hand to your forehead and repress a sob. It’s not just the agony at the crux of your spine, it’s everything. It’s the stress pulsing in your head like a maelstrom. Hansen has wholly and completely invaded your life.

Maiik returns and shoves the stuffed dragon onto your lap. You thank him and kiss his forehead before you send him back to his drawing table. Simone sits with her jaw locked, staring at the wall as if she can see through it.

“Sim, what’s going on?” You ask.

“Why did you let him come in?” She hisses.

You sigh, “Simone, I tried–”

“He’s a weirdo. And he’s mean to you.”

You chew your lip, “he’s my boss.”

“So he should boss you around at work. He shouldn’t follow you home.”

“I know, okay, honey. He’s just… He’s interested in your dad’s work.”

“Sure,” she rolls her eyes. “Mom,” she takes a breath and waits for you to nod before she continues, “how did you fall?”

You hesitate and rub your neck. You’re so tired. Not just physically. You’re tired of lying and bending over backwards for everyone. You just want to close your eyes and stop thinking.

“I was taking a shower and I slipped,” you tell her the basic truth.

“Oh,” she gives a thoughtful grimace, “well…”

“It’s a good reminder to be careful,” you say. “I’ll be fine. I’ll get some x-rays done and you’ll see it’s nothing.”

Simone's face pinches as if she wants to argue more but thinks better of it. She opens her book as she leans back but keeps her gaze on the wall. She's a reflection of your own anxiety as she fidgets.

You try to relax as your tailbone radiates again and your back locks up. You just have to make it through the night. And the next and the next. 

The doorbell rings and jars you just as your lashes droop. Simone jumps up, snapping her book shut. You frown and let out a whimper.

"Sim?" You murmur.

"I'll get it," she nods and throws her book on the cushion.

She sprints off to the entryway as Malik looks over curiously. You listen to the brief exchange, your daughter greeting the visitor and the crinkle of paper. As the savoury aroma wafts in, you realise it's just the food.

"Simone, you need help?" You call through a grunt as you try to sit up.

"Mom, don't move," she hollers back. "Mal, get over here."

Your son jumps up and races out to help her. You huff and recline once more. Even your stubbornness can't get you off that couch now.

You hear the garage door and peer over as Pete's laughter floats in the air. You sigh. Of course they get along. Why wouldn't they? The stars always align to fuck you over.

"I smell something delicious," your husband chimes as he appears in the archway, rubbing his stomach.

 Your own grumbles as a pang of resent claws in your chest. You stare at his shirt and how it hangs slack over his hard stomach. He has time to work off his carbs, you just sit in an office and pile on the pounds.

"You'll love this place," Hansen calls from behind him as the kids carry the bags in from the door, Malik struggling under the weight of his armful.

"Pete," you snap and point to the wobbling six year old.

"Oh," his eyes round and he quickly lifts the heavy paper bag from his son, "sorry."

"Hey," Malik pipes up, "I'm strong enough."

"Mal, you don't wanna drop it," you gird and shift again, your tailbone throbbing. "Ah..."

"Honey, you okay?" Pete asks as he takes another bag from Simone, leaving her only one.

"Fine," you growl.

He gives a sheepish smile and beckons the kids into the kitchen, "come on, go sit at the table and give your mother a break."

"Save room for dessert," Hansen adds.

You roll your eyes as you hear Simone grumble something unintelligible. God, is she ever your daughter. You don't even try to get up. You don't like being helpless but if you don't relax, it will only get worse.

You listen to the noise from the kitchen. Pete rearing the children to the table as cupboards opening and closing and porcelain and cutlery clink together. Your skin crawls at the thought of Hansen going through your things.

You know what this is. He's intruding and making sure you know it. He doesn't just have an iron grip around your existence in the office, he's pawing at your home life like a greedy dog. 

He enters and brings you a plate. You sit up with an effort and he smirks as he holds out the medley of sides and plank of steak. You accept it with a grumbled thanks.

"You take it easy, sweetheart," he pets your head as he bends over you, "we need you in tiptop shape so you can get back to work."

You grimace but don't say a word. He lets his fingertips tick along your cheek and you jerk away, squeaking with the jolt of pain across your back. You grit your teeth and grab the fork and knife.

"Eat up," he winks as he pulls away, strutting back into the kitchen.

You shake your head and look down at the plate. As much as you'd love to smash it in his face, you're starving and you need something to pad your stomach before you take those painkillers. You don't need to be nauseous on top of everything else.

You scoop up the whipped potatoes, the fleck of chive and garlicky smell makes your mouth water. They taste just as good as they smell. You can only imagine how much he spent on a meal for five. A debt you'll no doubt pay back.

"Honey," Pete enters, "can I get you a drink? Some wine?"

"Water," you say tersely.

"Yes, dear."

He goes back into the kitchen and you listen to him puttering around. He just annoys you by being there. Even his help is a nuisance. He comes back with a tall glass of water and sets it on the low coffee table before dragging it closer so you can reach. He leans over to peck your temple.

"Love you," he utters tremulously. You look at him. He winces and his cheeks dimple with a strained smile, "I'm trying," he croaks.

You say nothing and focus on cutting into the steak, your knife hitting the plate harshly. He stand and takes a step back.

"Your boss really likes my ideas. I think he's going to invest--"

"Would you go look after the kids?" You hiss, "please?"

"I..."

"Thank you for the water," you snip.

He backs away and apologises. It irritates you how he makes himself so pathetic. As if he's the victim in all this. He slept with that young intern, he dropped you in the shower, and you're paying the price for all of it. Say what you will about Hansen but you didn't jump into his arms. You're just trying to take care of your family. Something Pete's never even considered.

You chew angrily, sinking into the bitterness. This is just great. You're crippled and stuck here with two idiots. On top of that, your kids have to sit there with those creeps. Ugh. You will do better, you have to.

You eat in silence, hearing the chatter from the dining room. The kids don't say much as Pete and Hansen continue their conversation about stocks and rates and all that pompous bullshit. Your husband doesn't really seem to get it since his company makes absolutely no money, they very reason your boss can't wait to shove his hand down your pants at every fucking opportunity.

Where are those goddamn pills? As much as you need the damn pain to stop, you need to stop thinking. You're only making it all worse. Your purse is by the door. Too far.

You huff and keep eating. After. The food distracts enough from the agony.

You clear your plate and set it aside with effort. You wash down the remnants with a gulp of water and ease back onto the pillows. As you sigh, footsteps interrupt your peace.

"Ready for something sweet?" Hansen taunts.

Your eyes flutter open and you turn your head to him.

"I got some cheesecake," he takes your plate off the coffee table, staying bent as he lowers his voice, "but if you're thinking of something sweeter, we could figure something out."

You sneer and he snickers as he stands straight. He shamelessly adjusts himself through his pants, concealing his growing arousal under his belt. He clears his throat and walks away.

"Pete, the wife likes extra cream on hers," he declares as he enters the kitchen.

Your stomach flips. He is disgusting. You cross your arms and scowl at the window. Just dessert and then he can leave.

Hansen returns with a slice of chocolate cake, a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top. He offers the small plate and you accept it wordlessly. He watches as you cut through the tip with your fork.

"Get some of that cream," he hums and squeezes your shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing?" You snarl under your breath.

"Just wanna see you have a bite," he purrs, "you're so good at swallowing it all down--"

"Enough," you puff out, mortified as you peer over your shoulder.

"Chill," he raps his knuckles against your shoulder, "you need to take the edge off. Did the doctor give you the good dope?"

You sniff and turn your attention to the cheese cake. You hover the small portion on the fork and hesitate. You don't need the sugar. You look down at your stomach and rest the plate on your lap.

"Well? Did you take anything for your broken ass or not?" He scoffs.

"In my purse," you snip and scoop up the cheesecake, stuffing it in your mouth before you can call him a douche bag.

He looks around and wanders out to the entry way. He returns with your purse and fishes around in it. You glare at him as he does. He takes out the pill bottle and rattles it before he reads the label.

"Take two with food," he says, "how convenient, you're eating right now."

"And I got a big pain in my ass," you retort.

He laughs and uncaps the bottle, nearing as he offers you two pills. You take one for now and rest the plate in your lap. You reach for the glass of water and he wiggles his hand.

"Bottle says two," he insists.

"I'm fine. I got kids to take care of."

"Your husband's got a hold on all that, go on," he shoves his hand in front of your face, "really, you keep that stick up your ass and you're gonna stay like that."

You sniff and swipe the other tablet from his hand. You shove both in your mouth and drain half the glass. You smile at him and slam the cup down on the table.

"You're right," you snort, "it'll make putting up with you a whole lot easier."

"That's the spirit, sweetheart," he says, "think I'll just wait for my dessert..."

He turns and strides away. You mull over his ominous statement, not quite sure what he means. Knowing him, you should be worried but he's the least of your troubles at the moment.

🗄️

You feel lighter than you have in years. The medicated fog has you bleary and relaxed. You haven't felt this carefree in... ever? You sink into your own body, caught in a muted daze. You're vaguely aware of the room but unconcerned by the activity all around you.

"Kids," Pete says in exasperation, "jeez, must've had too much sugar."

"My bad," Hansen quips as sways his leg before him. The motion catches your eye and you peer over, hypnotised by the movement.

"It's his bath time," Simone says.

"Is it?" Pete pushes back his floppy hair and catches Malik as he runs in circles.

"Yep," Simone says dully. "He goes at seven, I go after him."

"Oh," your brainless husband utters.

"Think you're on duty, Petey Boy," Hansen muses, his hand kneading his own thigh, "old lady's in rough shape."

"Mom?" Simone approaches, hugging her book to her chest, "can you please tell him to go away?"

You just babble and smile, reaching out to touch her hair, "I love you, sweetie."

"Must be some strong... stuff the doc prescribed," Hansen scoffs.

"Why don't you go read in your room?" You pat her shoulder, "you always love reading."

She frowns and sways to look at the man in the armchair, watching with an amused grin. Hansen's a bit less sinister in the haze of your sedation. His mustache looks fuzzier than usual.

"I should stay--"

"Come on, Sim," Pete hikes Malik over his shoulder, "let's go. I might need help with your brother."

"Ugh," Simone huffs and drops her shoulders, "dad, can't you do it on your own?"

"You heard your mother, go to your room."

"I'll keep an eye on the old lady. Just in case she needs anything," Hansen intones, "I had an old injury in college. I took a few painkillers and thought I was new again. Ended up hurting myself all over again."

"Good idea," Pete agrees as Malik writhes in his grasp, "kids."

He snaps his fingers and your son still as your daughter tramps after him, sending one last glare towards Hansen. You turn your head straight and blow a raspberry. You're free, no pain, no worries, no feelings.

You listen to the racket of Pete's ascent and the bickering of the children. You giggle at the chaos. For once, it's not you.

You twitch as you feel a tickle along your arm. Hansen hushes you and winks as he lowers himself to one knee beside the couch. You hadn't noticed him move. You peer over at the chair and back to him. You sneer and reach to tug the short hair above his lip, wanting to rip it off. He wouldn't look so stupid without it.

"Hey, what--"

"Like a little caterpillar..." you slur.

"Alright, sweetheart," she pushes your hand away, "let's just... take it easy."

He puts his hand on your thigh and you look down at it. You furrow your brow as he squeezes before slowly dragging his palm up to your stomach. You grab him and try weakly to push him away.

"What are you doing?" You hiss.

"Shhhh," he presses his other index to his lips, "you don't want the family to hear, do you?" He angles around and turns his hand, sliding it beneath the elastic top of your pants, "mommy's having her me-time."

"Please..." you gasp as he shoves his hand down your panties. You clench your thighs together but he forces two fingers between your lips. You choke and swiftly hooks his other arm behind your hand, smothering your mouth with his palm.

"Now, now, you're going to scar those kids if they walk down here and see you zonked out and riding my fingers," he snarls, "so lay back and enjoy, sweet cheeks."

He rubs you and hot breath steams out from your nose, your murmurs muted by his grasp. You know he should stop, you should want him to stop, but you don't. Your eyes roll back as he rubs your clit, teasing you as he flicks and rolls. Your legs fall apart and your head lolls against his arm.

"That's it," he keeps his fingers moving, "you know, the whole mom thing is starting to get me." He keeps betting you, rubbing harder and faster with each swirl, "yeah, I feel you shaking for it too..."

You pant over his knuckles as he slips his hand further, curling his fingers inside of you as he pushes the heel of his hand to your bud. He jerks his arm, fucking you until you squelch around him. The noise alone adds to your slickness and tips you over the edge. You spasm in the tide of an orgasm as it cuts through the numbness.

"Mmmm," he purrs and slides his fingers free. He drags his hand out of your pants and shows you the gleam of your cum on his fingers. He smirks and shoves them into his mouth. He sucks them clean and stands, his pants bulging. "Delicious."

A thump comes from above and Pete hollers, "Malik, get back here."

There's a short chase down the hallway, bare slapping feet, and a grunt. You blink and shake your head. Hansen looms over you and snickers.

"Look at daddy doing all the work while mommy's having fun," he grabs your chin and bends over you, "I clocked that guy the minute I saw him, I can tell by the way you soaked your panties he's not fucking you worth a damn." He lets his hand fall to your throat and exhales hotly, "don't you worry. Once you're back on your feet, I'll have you on your back. Or maybe ass up.”

#lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #pete brenner #dark pete brenner #dark!pete brenner #pete brenner x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #multifandom #the gray man #pain hustlers #same as it ever was

[unscharf-an-den-raendern]

Jede Möglichkeit für mlm Ships in Staffel 27

(Karl lassen wir mal außen vor, der ist 11)

Mikka x Simon

Mikka x Marlon

Mikka x Noah

Mikka x Joel

Mikka x Leon

Mikka x Joshua

Simon x Marlon - Marmon

Simon x Noah

Simon x Joel

Simon x Leon - Limon

Simon x Joshua - Jomon

Marlon x Noah

Marlon x Joel

Marlon x Leon

Marlon x Joshua

Noah x Joel - Noel

Noah x Leon

Noah x Joshua

Joel x Leon

Joel x Joshua

Leon x Joshua

Maxis Oma hatte Recht: Irgendwie geht's immer weiter!

#schloss einstein

[justalexx-things]

Schloss Einstein & meine queeren headcanons:

Moritz Overmann: Iwie mag ich die Idee, dass er aroace ist

Viktor Müller: Bisexual Viktor >>>

Rosa Panowski: Bisexual queen <3

Fabienne Hoods: Ich liebe den Gedanken, dass Fabs lesbisch ist. Paula hätte es gefeiert, wenn Fabs eine queere lovestory bekommen hätte. Und außerdem dachte ich ernsthaft, dass Rosa und sie girlfriends sind 😭 (Staffel 26 war die erste, die ich geschaut hab, und als Fabs Rosa angerufen hat, ist mein gay dar sofort angesprungen.)

Julia Sponer: ich seh Julia so bei aroace oder unlabeled. (I would die for Avalia <3)

Joel Lucas: Trans Joel, aroace, pansexual oder der Mix aus panromantisch ace (myself 🤝🏼 joel) Egal welches headcanon, auf keinen Fall ist der Junge straight.

Colin Thewes: demiromantic bisexual Colin you're so special to me :')

Ava Eilers: sapphic queen 🧡🩷 ich mag auch den gedanken, dass sie irgendwo im nonbinary umbrella ist; richtung demiwomen (surprise, that's me too), pronouns denk ich bei ihr, dass sie she/her aber auch they/them bevorzugt.

Joshua Hockenbrink: hat 'ne gay crisis, labelt sich aber nicht. Mag auch den gedanken, dass er richtung demiboy ist.

Elly Hockenbrink: könnte mir schon vorstellen, dass sie bisexual sein könnte, mal gucken, was das team noch mit ihr vor hat 👀

Noah Temel: noah mit girls? Nicht in diesem leben und auch nicht im nächsten.

Sirius Pasulke: seh ich irgendwo richtung agender, maybe unlabeled. Pronomen alle, aber möchte bitte nicht Heinz genannt werden. (Ich hab ja immer noch eine Schwäche für das crack ship sirius x joel 🥺)

Pawel Kronbügel: *bi panic*

Badu Barry: bisexual king. Ich lebe für das crack ship Viktor x Badu.

Annika Barry: aromantic oder unlabeled. Schade, dass annika x ava nie canon werden wird.

Tahmina Ziaar: maybe demigirl. denke sie bevorzugt so die pronous she/her beziehungsweise she/they.

Chiara Dorn: my pansexual princess 🩷💛🩵

Leon Gajewski: he's bi, actually (Dean manesfestiert sich legit 'ne queere lovestory für leon, so wie er in einigen szenen simon anguckt 😭 like wtf, ich seh die nolin parallelen!! Ich würde es dean echt von herzen gönnen, wenn er das spielen dürfte 🥺)

Simon Reuter: aromantic Simon is my new roman empire. Sonst fänd ich es super witzig, wenn limon auf ernst canon werden würde. Der Dude würde die bi panic seines lebens haben 💀

Wiebke Schiller: sapphic icon ✌🏼 scheißt mal auf hauser x schiller, die frau deserves a girlfriend!

Und somit euch einen schönen pride month!

#schloss einstein #pride month

[amethvysts]

BOA NOITE LIV!!! Eu sou a diva carioca q já comentou algumas vezes aqui, mas o assunto d hoje será um pouco diferente pq uma anon extremamente MALDOSA (diva genia 😉) falou sobre simon hempe flamenguista e pipe otãno tricolor eeeeee isso me deixou criativa EEEEE completamente loka passando mal tal qual mc ryan do sp q estava na OTI 🙁 PQ EU PENSEI NUM CENÁRIO EXATAMENTE IGUAL A ESSE MASSSSS o PEOR é q eles eram PRIMOS!!!!!!!! 😱😱😱 OMG!!

OLHA SÓ: a loba começou ficando com o tricolor e tals bem pimposinha e super d boa até ter a infelicidade d conhecer o flamenguista (off q todo flamenguista é canalha safado) e foi assim q a lobinha acabou ficando mais perdidinha ner 😋 pq os dois eram super divertidos, mesmo sendo primos tinham personalidades beem diferentes (menos a canalhice 😣😖✊) além d q os keridos eram putos tesudos crocantes gostosos eee ENFIM sempre quando tinha fla x flu a lobinha já c preparava pra enfrentar as briguinhas bobocas infantiloides desses dois homens o dia todo. MASS quando for times q esses dois cretinos amam fazer d chacota q a língua chega até doer de tanto q esses homens falam mal (time esse q só pode ser o vascão) EEEEEEE como o diabo é sujo, a lobinha torce exatamente pro Vasco (mds😫😫😫) aí quando é dia de jogo a lobinha só leva esculacho desses sem consideração! 🤬 A lobinha toma só no cu quando é jogo do vascão (literalmente)

Enfim, boa noite liv fique bem com essas sapequices q pensei agr 😋

ah sim anon entendo vamos ignorar o fato de que eu vou ter que ficar sofrendo pelo meu time ATÉ em fanfic

vei, você foi TÃO mente de titânio nessa! pensando que você seria amiga (ou ficante plus premium comfort max rs) de um deles e aí ele te convidaria pra reunião de família pra assistir o jogo do vasco contra o time dele, e você acaba se juntando com o primo dele pra torcer contra — a primeira e única união vasfla ou vasflu do mundo.

acaba que vocês formam um trio calafrio e criam um grupo no whatsapp para aloprações e afins. o que significa que todo jogo do vasco, eles vão enviar trilhões de figurinhas e áudios estourados.

inclusive, o pipe tem carinha de quem perde totalmente as estribeiras (e a noção do perigo) quando tá assistindo jogo; teve uma vez em que ele se juntou com alguns outros tricolores pra gravar um vídeo falando que seu time é uma merda. e quando você fica chateada, ele se sente um pedaço de bosta velha pisada no asfalto e te manda várias desculpas, “gatinha, por favor, me perdoa :( pensei que seria engraçado” — e só piora quando o simón coloca pilha dizendo que ele pisou muito na bola.

ai, mas penso muito nos dois competindo pela sua atenção enquanto vocês estão assistindo jogo. o simón fica falando um bando de gracinha pra te fazer rir, zoando os jogadores e referenciando uns memes da internet. e isso leva o pipe a ficar bicudinho, mas fica toda hora tocando no seu braço, se envolvendo na conversa e sendo bem passivo-agressivo com as piadinhas do primo.

#o simón faria o inferno na vida do pipe #liv escreve carioquices #⭒ ݁ . you've got mail! #◟♡ ˒ anon #pipe!br #simón!br #lsdln

[toshsato]

FIREFLY - JAYNESTOWN

There ain't a one of us looks the part more than the good Doctor.

#firefly #simon tam #malcolm reynolds #mal x simon #fireflyedit #scifiedit #tvedit #filmtvcentral #filmtvdaily #cinematv #cinemapix #usertvfilm #usertelevision #userstream #userbbelcher #tvfilmsource #smallscreensource #tvcentric #simal #firefly rewatch #one gifset per ep #jaynestown #mygifs #my post

[maxie-fallon]

Firefly idea:

After the whole situation with Saffron whenever Mal gets really drunk the crew pretends he got married to someone. He's been "married" to most of the crew and a few random girls they've managed to talk into playing along. Eventually, he and Simon actually get married while drunk and neither of them believes anyone who tries to convince them that, yes that did in fact happen

#firefly #firefly show #firefly serenity #mal reynolds #mal x simon #simon tam #simon tam x malcolm reynolds #saffron firefly #YoSaffBridge

[kyuala]

♡ cast de lsdln como letras de claudinho & buchecha ♡

E VAMOS DE BRASILIDADES? gente peço perdão e licença poética aqui pois não sou a maior fã dos claudinho & buceta e coloquei só as que eu já conhecia porém ☝🏼 vi o filme deles esses dias (aliás recomendo muito) e fiquei pensando 💭 como eu tenho síndrome de cast de lsdln (ao invés de cérebro tem só o cast de lsdln na minha cabeça) não pude evitar fazer a ponte mental e saiu essa besteirinha aqui rs espero que gostem! não é necessário conhecer as músicas para ler <3

enzo vogrincic

é muita ousadia ter que percorrer / o país inteiro pra achar você / mas tudo que eu faço tem um bom motivo / linda, eu te amo, vem ficar comigo

de mãos cheias (ocupadas com bolsas, casacos, documentos e mais algumas coisas que nem ele mesmo se recorda agora) e coração também, enzo só consegue pensar que agora só faltam os braços, ansiosos pela sua presença, enquanto atravessa a entrada da rodoviária a passos largos até você e mira o próprio sorriso espelhado no teu rosto.

"nem acredito que você veio mesmo," você suspira em meio ao calor do abraço, mais para si mesma do que para ele. sabia que a viagem era longa e penosa, ainda mais de ônibus. sente teu peito estremecer colado ao dele quando teu namorado apenas dá uma risada.

"claro que vim, mi amor," enzo responde, se desvencilhando do abraço para te olhar direito agora, admirar cada detalhe - novo e já conhecido - teu. "tudo por você."

agustín pardella

'tô alucinado pelo seu olhar / vou aonde for até te encontrar / eu te amo demais, você é minha paz / faz amor gostoso de novo comigo, faz

o olhar de agustín te queima da cabeça aos pés, apesar de se esforçar para ignorá-lo - tudo parte do teu jogo, é claro.

"amor, sabe onde coloquei aquele meu shorts escuro?" pergunta, dissimulada, enquanto se dobra sobre o cesto de roupa suja na lavanderia ligada à cozinha, de onde teu marido assiste o teatrinho, tão vidrado que já nem presta mais atenção na tigela e na colher que tem em mãos. faz questão de presenteá-lo com a melhor visão do teu bumbum empinado, pouquíssimo coberto pelo tecido minúsculo e transparente da calcinha, antes de bufar e sair em direção ao quarto, evitando o olhar voraz alheio para não sair do personagem e empregando teu melhor biquinho nos lábios. "eu 'tô com tanto frio com as pernas de fora assim..."

mal consegue esconder o sorriso quando ouve o som da tigela sendo deixada na pia de qualquer jeito, seguido dos passos firmes. sabe que ele não te resiste e o fato nunca perde a graça. o vê encostando no batente da porta e cruzando os braços assim que você se senta na cama de casal, não deixando escapar a forma como o olhar dele recai automaticamente sobre tuas pernas abertas sem vergonha alguma.

"'tá com frio e não coloca uma blusa?" ele indaga, o tom alegre e descontraído de sempre faltando na voz, enquanto fita a própria regata larga que mal cobre teu torso.

você apenas dá de ombros, "gosto de usar suas roupas."

"ah, é?" agustín se aproxima, perdendo tempo nenhum ao te puxar pelos calcanhares, te arrastando até estar deitada na beirada da cama, concordando com a cabeça. teu sorrisinho denuncia que o plano segue invicto, funcionando como sempre. uma das pernas abraça o tronco forte à tua frente enquanto a outra recebe beijinhos castos - fingidos, ardilosos - do homem. "mas pode ir tirando tudo que eu mesmo te deixo bem quentinha rapidinho, nena."

matías recalt

eu não existo longe de você / e a solidão é o meu pior castigo / eu conto as horas pra poder te ver / mas o relógio 'tá de mal comigo

teu sorriso já vem mal contido desde antes de abrir a porta e entrar no quarto do rapaz. assim que te percebe no campo de visão, matías te fita com os olhos numa mistura de raiva e chateação - sabe que é tudo implicância, entretanto.

"lembrou que tem namorado?"

você sorri ainda mais ao ouvir a voz rouca, caminhando em passos cuidadosos pelo quarto mal iluminado até a cama. "eu nunca esqueço de você, meu amor."

ouve um resmungo qualquer como resposta e segura o riso - tentando não cutucar a sensibilidade do teu namorado ainda mais -, levantando o cobertor e se emaranhando junto ao corpo quente ao teu lado. se já não estava claro antes, tem certeza quando o sente te envolver com os braços, como se fosse um coala, de que todo o showzinho do garoto é só manha. a mais pura manha.

"você sabe que eu só não vim antes porque não consegui, matí," você o lembra novamente, levando uma das mãos a fazer carinho nos cabelos castanhos quando o sente te apertar ainda mais nos seus braços. "'tava muito ocupada no trabalho."

"eu sei," matías lamuria baixinho, quase inaudível se não estivessem tão próximos um do outro. "é que o tempo passa mais devagar quando você não 'tá aqui, bebita," continua, fazendo um calor se espalhar por todo teu peito mesmo sem querer e sem saber. "parece até que o relógio 'tá de mal comigo."

esteban kukuriczka

quero te encontrar / quero te amar / você pra mim é tudo / minha terra, meu céu, meu mar

esteban sente os joelhos subindo e descendo de nervoso enquanto espera sentado à mesa da padaria, sozinho, mas mal lhes dá atenção. na cabeça não há espaço para outro pensamento agora, apesar de parecer não haver nenhum à primeira vista; culpa do olhar longe e divagado.

se sente feliz pela oportunidade, claro. mas não pode deixar de pensar. o que será que você vai achar? maravilhoso, é óbvio, responde a si mesmo, pois já te conhece como a palma da própria mão - por mais suada e escorregadia que esta esteja agora. mas e os planos que fizeram para o próximo ano? vamos dar um jeito, pensa, nós sempre damos um jeito. mas e se não derem? será que vão aguentar? será que vão se cansar um do outro, se afastar, brigar ou pior, terminar?

esteban mal consegue sentir os calafrios da cabeça aos pés, aqueles que sempre vêm acompanhados desse pensamento assombroso, quando te avista chegar à mesa, se aproximando com o sorriso mais caloroso que já viu. aquele que só você tem e que reserva só para ele.

é lembrado, então, que passarão por esse desafio assim como passaram por todos os anteriores. com a certeza de que são o céu, a terra, o mar, tudo um para o outro. e só isso basta.

fran romero

amor sem beijinho, buchecha sem claudinho / sou eu assim sem você / circo sem palhaço, namoro sem abraço / sou eu assim sem você

"sai, francisco!" tua voz esbraveja, apesar da risada que a acompanha.

"francisco?!" teu namorado questiona, tão indignado que as mãos quase te dão uma trela e te deixam escapar. quase.

"ué, seu nome é qual?" você insiste em implicar, enquanto ainda tenta se safar dos braços alheios. "se chama de 'amor' você não me escuta, fica querendo me agarrar quando eu falo que quero ficar sozinha. palhaço."

aí sente, então, o abraço perdendo a força. mas a pontinha de culpa vem mesmo quando vê o bico já formado nos lábios do rapaz.

"nossa, mas que namoro é esse?" fran reflete, mais para deixar no ar mesmo do que direcionado a você agora que te vira as costas. "não tem um abraço, não tem beijinho..." continua, com um sorrisinho no rosto, escondido de você, sabendo que nesse momento já te tem nas mãos - quase que literalmente, pois teus braços já se dispõem a encurralá-lo, rindo em meio a mil desculpas, desculpas, desculpas. "não deve nem ter amor mais."

"para, amor!" tua voz quebrada choraminga enquanto você luta para voltar aos braços do teu namorado.

o sorriso segue intacto nos lábios de fran quando ele te olha, negociando: "'tá bom, eu paro. mas só se você fizer um brigadeiro pra gente," pausa, analisando tua face ansiosa para o agradar. "e depois me der quantos abraços e beijinhos eu quiser."

"'tá bom."

fran sorri quando ouve tua voz concordar. "promete?"

e recebe um tão esperado selinho antes da resposta.

"prometo."

felipe otaño

por que é que tem que ser assim? / se o meu desejo não tem fim / eu te quero a todo instante / nem mil alto-falantes vão poder falar por mim

sinceramente, você gostaria de dizer que não sabe como veio parar nessa situação, mas a verdade é que sabe muito bem, sim, e que a confusão já vem se armando há um bom tempo.

"pelo amor de deus, vida, fala comigo," o rapaz te implora, os olhinhos azuis brilhando sob as luzes neon da balada e você se questiona se ele está mesmo à beira do choro ou se você só está muito louca. "você não me responde, não me atende quando eu te ligo, agora eu te acho aqui se esfregando em outro cara! por quê é que você tem que ser assim?"

"e por quê que você liga?!" você rebate, já aumentando o tom de voz e se exaltando, quase encostando o dedo indicador no rosto de pipe. "não era você que queria deixar sempre bem claro que era só sexo, sem compromisso? pra você poder comer quem quiser? por quê que agora você vem ligar pra mim, hein?"

"PORQUE EU TE AMO, DESGRAÇA!" esbraveja emocionado, o tom de voz superando o volume dos alto-falantes do local, atraindo a atenção de quem dança ao redor. tua pele se incendeia sob os olhares curiosos.

você o encara, incrédula. inacreditável como até para se declarar, num momento que deveria ser romântico, pipe dá um jeito de deixar tudo mais... pipe. é de enlouquecer, de arrancar os cabelos - tanto de raiva quanto de afeto. não tem como negar que o jeito bruto, nada polido do rapaz mexe com você, pois sabe que tudo que vem dele é real, é nu e cru, natural. e sabe que o sentimento, para ele, é recíproco.

"porra e não tinha um jeito melhor de me dizer isso não?" questiona, um pouco mais calma mesmo ao ainda manter a pose de marrenta, se esforçando para ignorar os olhares alheios pro showzinho de vocês. pipe aparenta nem sequer percebê-los, a face tão concentrada em ti que parece lhe causar dor física - já há tempos não consegue prestar atenção em nada que não seja você.

"é que você me deixa louco, maluco, perrita."

"felipe!" desfere um leve tapa no braço do argentino, que logo esfrega o local com a mão numa tentativa de aliviar o impacto e faz uma careta de dor, exagerado como sempre.

"ué, você sempre gostou quando eu te chamava assim," dispara, mas já se preocupa em pedir desculpas atrás de desculpas após teu resmungo de moleque, eu juro por deus. e, como o lema do argentino aparentemente é não aprender nada e te infernizar sempre que possível, sorri ladino quando emenda: "mas é verdade..."

teu olhar o queima.

"não só o lance do 'perrita'", ele logo se justifica e se aproxima de você, apesar de teu olhar desconfiado, e te envolve nos braços fortes, "mas de você me deixar maluco. eu te quero o tempo todo, mi reina."

você ainda o encara com desconfiança e marra, os braços cruzados, não querendo ceder tão cedo, porém o uso do apelido especial de vocês quase a faz deixar escapar um sorrisinho. "eu sei."

pipe ri soprado, o ar quente batendo na tua bochecha com tamanha proximidade quando o argentino roça o nariz na lateral do teu rosto, beijando tua têmpora e se aproximando perigosamente do teu ouvido quando sussurra, "eu sei que você sabe... mas deixa eu te lembrar."

simón hempe

amor, vou esperar pra ter o seu prazer / seu corpo é mais quente que o sol / eu vivo a sonhar, pensando em você / delírio de jogar futebol

"ACORDA, SIMÓN!"

o rapaz é puxado da perdidão dos próprios pensamentos pelos gritos dos colegas de time, mas nem se preocupa em desviar o olhar do alvo ou em disfarçar o quanto não poderia ligar menos para a partida em andamento. não quando você está lá, sentada na arquibancada de onde torcia pelo namorado até minutos atrás, linda e o incentivando como sempre.

simón já vem observando o desenrolar da cena desde seu início, as mãos apoiadas nos quadris, estático em algum canto da quadra enquanto assistia um dos reservas do time rival se aproximar de você e puxar algum assunto, prontamente continuado apenas pela sua educação de sempre, simón presume. sabe que você não tem intenções a mais do que ser amistosa com o estranho, mas não pode deixar de sentir a pontinha de ciúmes como uma fagulha no peito. ri desacreditado quando reconhece os sinais de que o outro jogador acredita piamente que está te ganhando na lábia quando você não faz mais do que rir de algo que ele comenta.

"porra, irmão, tu veio pra jogar ou pra assistir?" indaga matías, se aproximando do amigo assim que alguém apita o início do intervalo do jogo. simón apenas estala a língua, murmurando um já volto, que é recebido com uma risadinha de matí, já ciente dos planos do amigo.

"e aí, minha princesa?" teu namorado te chama quando se aproxima, te arrancando um sorriso com o pronome possessivo. não é raro ele colocar um minha antes de qualquer apelidinho fofo que tem para você, mas sabe que dessa vez tem um objetivo por trás. objetivo esse que é alcançado assim que manda um e aí, mano nada amigável para o rapaz que se engraçava contigo até agora, fazendo-o prontamente devolver o cumprimento e se levantar dali, se afastando de vocês dois. simón devolve teu sorriso, satisfeito. "escuta, que 'cê acha da gente ir pra casa?" pergunta, laceando os braços ao redor da tua cintura e depositando um beijinho no teu pescoço quando você se levanta e se aproxima, apoiando os antebraços nos ombros alheios. "tenho uma ideia bem melhor pra gente curtir nossa quartinha à noite."

você ri. "e teus amigos? fez tanta questão de vir jogar bola e agora quer ir embora no meio da partida?"

"ah, eles se viram sem mim," teu namorado faz pouco caso, "'tão bem grandinhos já."

você puxa os cabelos escuros da forma mais sugestiva que consegue sem levantar suspeitas em público - e falha imediatamente quando simón puxa o ar por entre os dentes, claramente afetado pelo gesto - e o faz olhar diretamente para você. "não. você vai ficar e vai jogar até o final," decreta, firme. "e, se for bonzinho, quem sabe eu te deixo me curtir nessa quartinha à noite quando a gente chegar em casa."

teu namorado faz a carinha de sofredor que quase sempre te convence a ceder aos desejos dele - quase. "porra, tu só me enrola, hein, gatinha?"

você dá o seu melhor sorriso cínico, tombando levemente a cabeça para o lado e sustentando o olhar que faz teu interior pegar fogo. "e você gosta."

simón sorri de canto, quebrando ele mesmo o contato visual para te olhar de cima a baixo com desejo.

"eu adoro."

santi vaca narvaja

quando você vem / pra passar o fim de semana / eu finjo estar tudo bem / mesmo duro ou com grana

santi encara a tela do celular, imóvel, analisando de novo e de novo os números descritos na conta no aplicativo do nubank. como pode uma fatura de cartão custar mais que a minha casa? se questiona em pensamento, tão concentrado que mal te vê se aproximando novamente de onde está sentado te esperando dar uma volta na c&a, como de costume.

"pronto, amor, podemos ir," você informa, parando teu passo imediatamente quando percebe o semblante sempre tão amistoso do namorado agora com as sobrancelhas franzidas e os olhinhos azuis cerrados, e o reflete no teu próprio, preocupada. "que foi? 'tá tudo bem? aconteceu alguma coisa?"

"não, 'tá tudo ótimo, amor! não se preocupa," o rapaz já se apressa a te tranquilizar com o sorriso de sempre, levantando do banco de shopping e guardando o celular no bolso; a mão já se direciona pra tua lombar, lugar habitual dela. "como assim 'pronto'? não achou nada de legal?"

você sorri, sem jeito, já sabendo onde esse papo vai dar. "ah, até achei... mas 'tá caro então deixa pra lá. outro dia eu passo aqui e pego."

"não, mas se você gostou a gente tem que levar," santi já começa, apesar do teu olhar de advertência. "amor, vai que alguém leva a última peça que você quer... quem garante que ela vai estar aqui quando você voltar?" questiona, já te puxando pela mão em direção à loja. "não, a gente passa no meu cartão. eu pego pra você, não tem problema."

você o para no lugar na mesma hora.

"santiago, você já gastou demais comigo esse mês. é um lanchinho aqui, uma lembrancinha ali, umas flores lá... e aquela blusa que você me deu que nem terminou de pagar ainda?" você raciocina com o rapaz, arqueando uma das sobrancelhas quando ele apenas dá de ombros. amansa a voz, pois sabe que tudo que ele faz é de coração. "eu te amo e agradeço muito pelos presentes mas é dinheiro demais."

"nunca é demais pra você, meu anjo," santiago se aproxima, aconchegando tua bochecha na própria mão, "você merece o mundo." ele cala sua próxima reclamação com um selinho, já sabendo aqui que não há mais espaço para argumentações. "deixa eu te mimar."

agustín della corte

e mesmo que eu arriscasse alguém / não seria tão bom quanto é / eu não vou confiar em ninguém / e nem vou me envolver com qualquer

agustín assiste enquanto a mulher se afasta, caminhando de volta ao bar de onde veio em meio à festa. as palavras ficam presas na garganta - sinto muito - pois sabe que, em maior parte, não são verdadeiras. não sente muito de tê-la dito um "não, obrigado", rejeitando seus avanços, por mais graciosos que tenham sido ou por mais atraente que fosse. não sente muito de não ter ido atrás dela, acompanhando-a até o bar para beberem uma juntos a fim de distrair a cabeça - motivo esse pelo qual foi arrastado pelos amigos até à festa em primeiro lugar.

mas, por outro lado, sente muito, sim. sente muito de estar ali agora, sozinho. sente muito de não estar em casa, deitado confortavelmente no sofá e debaixo das cobertas, dividindo um balde de pipoca e assistindo uma comédia romântica qualquer que protestou (fracamente) para não ver. sente muito de não estar com você. e sente muito por você - não no sentido de sentir pena, não. esse nunca foi um dos sentimentos do rapaz por você, que sempre foram muitos em quantidade e intensidade. ele sente muita coisa por você, por vocês. sempre sentiu e agora não é diferente - e nem intenta que seja.

perdido nos pensamentos, agustín saca o celular do bolso, abrindo a conversa com você - abandonada há alguns dias - quase que por reflexo, sem perceber. as palavras enviadas também são automáticas, sem muito pensar ou planejar, pois são as que já martelam na cabeça dele desde que te viu pela última vez.

dale, vida, vamos deixar de besteira, diz a primeira mensagem, prontamente seguida pela segunda: sinto sua falta que nem louco. vamos conversar.

rafael federman

é que você ignora tudo que eu faço / depois vai embora / desatando os nossos laços

rafael gostaria de ter acordado assim que a cama ficou mais leve, sem a tua presença. ou até mesmo assim que teu calor se dissipou completamente de seus arredores, deixando os lençóis - que horas antes pareciam pegar fogo - frios, gelados. mas sabe bem o efeito que tem sobre ele, para bem ou para mal.

acorda assim que o corpo relaxado permite, despertando do sono profundo que sempre segue as noites ao teu lado e no qual com certeza sonhou com você - até o inconsciente do rapaz busca incessantemente por mais de ti.

não é a primeira vez que acorda sozinho na própria cama apesar de ter ido dormir acompanhado por você. a noite passada foi, entretanto, a primeira em que te disse as tão temidas três palavras, acompanhadas timidamente pelo pequeno pacote de presente que agora repousa sobre a mesa de cabeceira - intocado, imóvel, servindo de apoio para o pequeno bilhete escrito apressadamente no papel rasgado: me desculpa.

rafael suspira fundo e fecha os olhos, inutilmente tentando voltar para o mundo dos sonhos onde ainda te tinha há meros minutos atrás - cada parte do rapaz ainda busca incessantemente por mais de ti.

masterlist principal | masterlist de lsdln

#era pra ser pequenos cenários mas me passei aqui fml foi mal #la sociedad de la nieve #lsdln #lsdln cast #lsdln x reader #enzo vogrincic #agustin pardella #matias recalt #esteban kukuriczka #fran romero #felipe otaño #simon hempe #santi vaca narvaja #agustin della corte #rafael federman #agustín pardella #matías recalt #francisco romero #pipe otaño #simón hempe #santiago vaca narvaja #agustín della corte #rafa federman #mari.doc #Spotify

[vhsgoghs]

similar (Simon Riley one shot)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x OC

Resumen: Ghost tiene que recibir a una nueva recluta que casualmente se llama igual que él.

TW: none

nota: también disponible en wattpad (vhsgoghs)

★ english ver here

Simon no era excepcionalmente hábil con las personas. Lo era, si se lo proponía, pero ese día en particular no se había levantado de buen humor, tampoco tenía el ánimo para socializar con alguien nuevo y aunque pidió con todas sus fuerzas que alguien más tomara su lugar, cualquier fuerza de la naturaleza pareció abandonarlo ese día.

La llegada de soldados nuevos podía considerarse algo positivo; una ayuda extra jamás debía ser rechazada, sin embargo, odiaba ser el responsable de recibirlos, no le importaba estar ahí como una especie de apoyo silencioso, pero preferiría que otra persona manejara las presentaciones.

Al llegar a la entrada principal, solo se encontró con una camioneta vacía y dos personas que parecían esperar a alguien, ¿eran ellos? Era poco probable, el chico recargado sobre la puerta del conductor le resultaba familiar, pero la chica pequeña a su lado parecía todo menos una soldado.

¿Por qué todas las chicas que conocía eran tan bajitas? O tal vez él era demasiado alto.

—¡Ghost! —El chico se acercó estrechando su mano, un saludo que él aceptó casi de inmediato—. Price me dijo que vendrías tú, así que es toda tuya —habló soltando una risa antes de alejarse, parecía desesperado por irse.

—Oye, espera, ¿dónde está el nuevo soldado? —preguntó, girándose para mirarlo. El chico se detuvo y señaló a la persona detrás de él.

—Buena suerte, habla demasiado.

Ghost giró confundido y se sobresaltó ligeramente cuando la chica estuvo cerca de él. Retrocedió un paso, sintiendo que estaban invadiendo su espacio personal.

—¿Eres la nueva recluta? —La chica asintió sin dudarlo, emocionada por esta nueva etapa—. No eres algo... joven. —Ghost levantó una ceja, aunque la chica no podía darse cuenta debido a su máscara.

Si alguien le hubiera dicho que la desconocida tenía diez años, lo habría creído sin pensar, sintió una punzada de culpa al observar cómo su sonrisa se desvanecía y su ceño se fruncía. Sin duda, había dicho algo mal.

—Tengo veinticuatro —dijo, señalando el portapapeles que tenía entre sus manos. Ghost bajó su mirada para leer lo básico sobre su información, solo para confirmar que, efectivamente, la chica tenía veinticuatro años. No podía quejarse; era varios años mayor que él cuando ingresó al ejército.

—Entonces... —Hizo una pausa mirando a su nombre, y ahora fue su ceño el que se frunció al notar el nombre de la chica—. ¿Ghosty? —La chica asintió, acomodando la mochila sobre sus hombros—. ¿Tu nombre es Ghosty?

La chica volvió a asentir sin entender el problema, no era su primer traslado, no entendía por qué esa vez estaba tomando tanto tiempo. Usualmente, alguien llegaba, la introducía con rapidez a su nuevo cuartel y apenas le explicaba lo que tendría que hacer ahí.

—¿Hay algún problema?

Ghost negó. No era una persona que se burlara con frecuencia, pero en esos momentos, deseó reír debido a la enorme coincidencia.

—Suena falso, ¿te cambiaste el nombre?

—No —negó balanceándose en sus talones, desesperada por terminar con aquellas preguntas que no parecían ser parte de la rutina.

—¿Es algún nombre clave?

—No, es mi nombre. —Que las personas dudaran de su nombre no era nada nuevo, pero jamás habían dudado de su nombre después de ver sus papeles; era algo evidente—. ¿Por qué?

Se quedó en silencio durante algunos segundos, esa mañana se había propuesto comportarse de la mejor manera posible, podía no haberse despertado de buen humor, pero era su trabajo. No podía darse el lujo de ser grosero.

—Nada... Soy Ghost, por cierto. —Extendió su mano en señal de saludo, pero la chica no respondió.

Llevó una de sus manos a la boca, claramente expresando sorpresa.

—No puede ser, no puede ser, ¿te llamas Ghost? —Él asintió—. Eso quiere decir que somos como... compañeros de nombre.

La chica soltó una risa y Ghost hizo su mayor esfuerzo por no prestar atención al revoltijo en su estómago. No era la primera vez que veía a un nuevo recluta emocionado por estar ahí, con el paso del tiempo, él se había acostumbrado a despertar todos los días en el mismo lugar.

—Claro que no, me obligaron y por eso estoy aquí. —Sacudió su cabeza en negación y pasó uno de sus brazos por los hombros de la chica, obligándola a caminar junto a él.

No era fan del contacto físico, pero por alguna razón, no le molestó sentir a la chica inclinarse ligeramente y pegarse a él. Le causaba gracia su altura y le resultaba curioso lo alegre que parecía, sabía que no iba a durar mucho, o al menos eso quería pensar, que se trataba de burla y no de algo más.

—Pero vamos a trabajar juntos, ¿no? —preguntó frunciendo el ceño.

—Sí, pero no tienes que actuar como si fuéramos mejores amigos.

—¿Por qué no? Somos Ghosty y Ghost. —Ambos caminaron por los pasillos; la chica parecía no querer caminar por su cuenta, así que él mantuvo su brazo alrededor de sus hombros—. Tal vez nos puedan llamar "los chicos Ghost".

—Vuelves a decir eso y te juro que no me vuelves a ver en tu vida. —Ghost quiso sonar intimidante, pero por alguna razón, su voz se suavizó.

Ghost fue rápido. Explicó lo básico pensando que alguien podría después explicarle el resto, no quería pasar más tiempo del debido junto a ella.

Ghosty conoció su nueva habitación cerca de diez minutos después. No era demasiado diferente a las otras habitaciones que había tenido en el pasado; sin embargo, sentía una vibra extraña en su interior, había deducido que ese hombre no quería pasar tiempo con ella.

—¡Espera! —habló cuando notó que Ghost estaba a punto de marcharse.

Extrañamente, él no la ignoró, no parecía ser alguien grosero, pero sin duda, lucía como alguien completamente reservado que no hacía muchos amigos y por su actitud, supuso que ella no era alguien que pronto formaría parte de su grupo de amigos.

—¿Quieres ir a comer algo? —preguntó. Aquellas palabras salieron de su boca sin pensarlo, sonaba estúpido; ¿por qué iba a invitarlo a comer cuando tenían una cafetería? No necesitaba su invitación para ir a comer.

Ghost se quedó en silencio durante algunos segundos, su primer instinto fue rechazar la invitación, recordando que aquel día no había amanecido de buen humor, pero eso parecía haberse esfumado cuando la miró.

—Claro, te mostraré dónde está la cafetería. —Asintió, haciendo una señal para que saliera de la habitación junto a él.

Ghosty sonrió triunfante; su plan de hacer amigos parecía estar funcionando, o al menos ese hombre con quien compartía nombre no se había negado a aceptar su propuesta.

Ghost sintió un revoltijo cuando la chica se unió a él. Tal vez no sería demasiado malo tener a alguien tan alegre a su alrededor.

No sería la última vez que vieron a Ghosty y Ghost juntos.

#call of duty #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley oneshot #simon riley imagines #ghost one shot #ghost oneshot #simon riley x oc #cod fanfic #cod ghost #cod oneshot #simon riley headcanons #ghost headcanons #simon riley fanfic #simon riley

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC F/AotW - March 10 - 16, 2024

✒️ = Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨 = Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+ 🏳️‍🌈 = LGBTQIA

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

Battle ✒️| Tyril Sarfury x f!human!mc - @petalouda85

Blades Fanfic ✒️| Tyril Starfury & MC - @skepticalfrogcat

Names ✒️| Tyril Starfury x F!human!MC - @petalouda85

Nyx x Luna Rose 🎨| Original Characters by @lilyoffandoms C: @storyofmychoices

Second Thoughts ✒️| Tyril Starfury x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls

CRIMES OF PASSION

Confrontation ✒️| CoP F!MC, M!OC - @thosehallowedhalls

Home Without (Series) ✒️| M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @thosehallowedhalls Part 4

Mama, Didn't Mean to Make You Cry ✒️| M!Trystan Thorne, Viktoria Thorne - @inlocusmads

Running on Empty ✒️| M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC - @inlocusmads

THE ELEMENTALISTS

Your Love is Sweet Like a Honeysuckle ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Griffin Langley x F!MC - @aallotarenunelma

Yoga & Pancakes ✒️| Beckett Harrington x F!MC - @storyofmychoices

THE HAUNTING OF BRIARWOOD MANOR

Chicory Flowers For My Beloved ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Eleanor Waverly x F!MC - @aallotarenunelma

IMMORTAL DESIRES

Lavander Sass ✒️🏳️‍🌈| NB!MC, Original Characters - @aallotarenunelma

OPEN HEART

Complete Open Heart List for Week Ending March 16, 2024

PERFECT MATCH

Alstroemeria as in Adoration ✒️🏳️‍🌈| PM F!MC - @aallotarenunelma

RED CARPET DIARIES

My Favorite Place 🎨| Thomas Hunt x F!OC by @/majoma_art (IG) C: @storyofmychoices

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

Ghosted (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x MC - @kristinamae093 Chapter 11: Altering Visions

Second Chance Love (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️🔥 | Liam Rys x MC, Liam Rys x F!OC - @mysticalfangirl Part 1

Turning the Page (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @tessa-liam Chapter 11: A Step Back in Time

Vancross (Series) ✒️Ⓜ️| Liam Rys x F!OC - @ao719 Chapter 23: Rescue You

RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

Stitched Sunflowers ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Dean West x F!MC - @aallotarenunelma

SAVE THE DATE

Origami Daisy ✒️🏳️‍🌈| Simon Hendricks x F!MC - @aallotarenunelma

CROSSOVERS

Blades of Light & Shadow / Nightbound

Kit Meets Rock ✒️| Mal Volari x F!MC, Nik Ryder x F!MC - @ladylamrian

Immortal Desires & Murder at Homecoming

Murder at Homecoming: Harlow (Series)✒️| Cas Harlow x MaH F!MC - @korgbelmont Part 2

Open Heart & The Royal Romance

Don't Call Me Angel ✒️| OH F!OC, Bryce Lahela, Tobias Carrick, Maxwell Beaumont, Bertrand Beaumont - @peonierose

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