#I've taken up to being in bed

[roadimusprime]

T-shirt that says "I was emotionally and mentally neglected as a child"

[destinywillowleaf]

one of a kind living in a world gone plastic

baby you're so classic

@most-tragic-character-tournament

(all my thoughts in the tags)

[noahtally-famous]

not me popping back on here with a post after months of semi-inactivity (uni is being a bitch) just to reiterate how much i love writing the pahkitew island cast.

aside from sammy and amy (obviously), literally everyone else can be shipped with one another and it'd make sense to some degree, like it takes skill to create a group of people so inherently shippable (platonically and/or romantically) and ofc the writers didn't know it they just shoved a bunch of random ppl together and dusted their hands off on it but fr tho 😭

(yeah im planning out my leonave 'stranger things inspired' au, and the gears are turning, and i forgot just how much i love writing for this dumbass group)

(i swear im working on the next chapter of a guide to surviving the apocalypse too)

[vargaslovinghours]

Y’all are being subjected to my Sims 2 tests, so there

The other set of Vargases came over for a visit and Scriabin picked up Shmee and started talking to Scriabin through him. Very normal, very usual

I downloaded some circle-glasses recolours and hghghh they look so good! Closer every day to his final details! Getting ever closer!

Edgar too! I made him a custom hair with a lighter undercut - I’m mostly happy with it, probably could’ve shifted it a shade closer to his skintone but the texturing was weird no matter what :P And his stripey shirt! I wish Body Shop didn’t have that hands-on-hips pose lol, it looks so much better in-game, but that’s all the better :)

I got some new clothes for Todd as well! As soon as I saw this ‘fit I was like “Oh that’s 100% Todd there he is.” Scriadad hug ♥ So cute

Foot-dancing together stopp it’s so cute!!

The way he looks at them stoppp <3 <3 They kept doing this right up til they left for home haha, Todd’s giggles are the cutest

Used SimPE to save him to the Body Shop, I now have infinite copies of The Boyyyy ♪

Moved him in with his “parents” as just shadow people basically, they’re not gonna matter in a bit as long as I remember how to get the Social Worker/Adoption process to work properly. Get her Todd!!

Wanna play? :D

Menacing :(

Look, Todd, your new dads are here! Initially I wasn’t sure who I wanted to adopt him, got lots of options; the first passes, the married couple with their own Todd, Johnny?? He definitely doesn’t have the facilities for a child lol But these are the ones that showed up on their own, so the married Vargases are the winners!

Scriabin cares more about him than his actual parents ;; A stranger off the street shows him more care! Not that it’s a high watermark

Look at him being a good dad!

Weh, he just wants friends ;; Poor baby

Best timeline, thank you

While we wait for CPS, let’s get some other interactions in! Nny is mean so he tended to prank the other two with a nose flick - mostly Edgar lol ♪ Now kiss

“Oh please don’t break all my bones~ :3” I love Todd looking up at them haha <3

Pffft, I think he was talking about the other Scriabin and just how attractive he is. Classic Scriabin. Alternatively, also funny to imagine him bragging himself up about how he’s just so handsome that Edgar can’t help but love him hahaha ♪

Allow me to tickle you with my KNIFE! >:D

Get a load of this guy lol

He ended up passing out at one point - I forgot which motives make CPS show up >.> - and completely 0%’d his comfort, but for some reason stargazing increased it?? It’s the same ground wh

Is two not enough to satisfy your butterfly bloodlust child?? He ended up with three, I had him release them before he was picked up by the Social Worker - success!

He rolled a new Want as soon as Todd was taken away - “Wants to see Ghost of Todd” Woah, dark! :0

And here he is on the married Vargases’ lot!! Success!! I did it right!! Heck yeah! :D Unfortunately they were uh, indisposed at the time. Good job guys pft

Goes right for Shmee, he really is Todd <3

[roboraindrop]

No work for me today. More time to lay here and think about my f/os 💕

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[trans-leek-cookie]

as a certified Aromantic Asexual (I should make myself a certificate) I genuinely don't Believe there is systemic oppression that specifically targets Aromantic or Asexual people.

I do however believe that people Cannot be normal about ppl who don't have sex or romantic relationships, and that can Really Impact Aromantic And Asexual People.

Also like. Aros n aces are still. Experiences Other forms of oppression that can interact with the aro and/or ace-ness

[britneyshakespeare]

i have written thirty pages in my diary that i started three days ago

[aturnipsingularity]

YA BOI IS GONNA HAVE A BED

[jensownzoo]

Calendula blooming in the strawberry/fennel/spearmint bed. From seed that's 10 years old minimum. Going to collect some fresh to replenish the stock from the 2 (maybe 3?) plants that came up.

The mock orange is in bloom too. I tend to favor fragrance over appearance when it comes to purely ornamental flowers, which is why I have two of these bushes (and why my common lilac is my favorite plant for 2 weeks in the spring despite having a horrible powdery mildew issue every year). It's also why I've never much cared for the flowers from florists.

Some of the overwintered coleus that have bounced back from their pruning for legginess. I now need to pot them up into something larger. The cuttings I took from the pruning are also doing well and starting to fill up the two planters I popped them into.

And this is exciting. I picked up some free canna tubers (?) in the fall that were offered in a box near someone's alley back gate. Not the same house as where I got the free irises, but in the same neighborhood. They overwintered in a plastic grocery sack in the house and I finally stuck them in the ground at the beginning of April. Looks like I have four plants so far...there's one that's either dead or sluggish else there'd be a full curve of them behind the variegated liriope. Am excited to see what color the flowers end up being.

And was very excited to have my first harvest of snow peas last night for dinner. Got about 3 cups of smallish pods that were absolutely delicious. Grown from maybe 24 plants crammed into a 18" square container with central olla and pvc/wire trellis tower. So honestly a pretty great yield for so small a space. Am hoping for a second blush of blooms before the heat kills the vines. I've got a second variety of snow peas and a few of snap peas that are just starting to bloom and set, so probably will only get one harvest from them.

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She��s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[cetoddle-archive]

okay. i resume taking my meds tonight B)

[ghostedeabha]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[mickyschumacher]

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐎 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after a long awaited summer break, you were expecting to have a good sleep in with carlos, but his plans for you are slightly different. or in which you convince carlos' to turn his morning cardio into something a little more fun.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), few untranslated spanish words, p in v, teasing, oral sex, kinda fluffy, poor humour, breastplay, dryhumping (bc i am nothing without this), fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, i love you's.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: while this wasn't what i initially was working on, i've momentarily gotten some free time amongst the chaos, you deserve some work, and carlos has been looking pretty delectable 🤭 // poorly proof-read sorry ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

You weren't a fan of working out. Never had been and was never going to be.

It wasn't that you didn't see the point of it. You were well versed in the science: it was good for you. It helped your body, soothed you mentally, and overall, kept you in a pretty good mood if you kept the right balance.

Your problem lied within the methods.

Take your dear boyfriend, for example.

Carlos loved working out. You weren't sure whether it was because he was an F1 driver or whether it was just Carlos himself. But he spent almost every living moment off the tracks with some form of physical activity.

You had memorised his routine quite well: a lengthy morning run, training with his personal trainer, his beloved choices of golf or paddle, followed by the occasional swimming or God forbid, another run.

Carlos tried to get you 'hooked' on to it all, claiming it's better to workout with someone as opposed being by yourself. But his efforts were to no avail.

You had important things to do... like catching up on your beauty sleep.

"Mi amor," The rasp of Carlos' voice lingered through the early morning air, cold hands trailing over your back. He pressed his lips at the silent response, watching you not a budge even a centimetre in your sleep.

A sigh escaped his mouth as he pressed his knees onto the edge of your bed, bending down to push your hair behind your ears. "Cariño," He called softly, making you hum in response.

"Carlos," you mumbled with sleep heavy in your voice. "You better not ask–"

"Come on a run with me," Carlos pleaded.

You forced an eye open, wincing at the immediate white light surrounding you. Blinking rapidly, you honed in on the Spaniard who was already dressed for his venture, batting his brown puppy eyes towards you.

"Handsome, you know I love you very much," you cooed, pressing your head further into the warmth of your pillow, "But I'd rather watch Lewis go to Ferrari."

An abrupt slice of cold air trickled past your bare skin and thin clothes. You yelped, covering your body, immediately missing the comforting heat of your duvet. "Carlos!" You scolded, much more awake now.

Carlos gave you a sickly sweet smile. "Say unwarranted things, get unwarranted things," He shrugged nonchalantly before grabbing your ankle to drag you off the mattress.

"No, no, no, no," you groaned, squirming in his grip. Pouting your lips, you quickly reached over to grab Carlos' hand. "Please," you whined.

"My sweet girl," Carlos started, "I just want you to join me. I promise you it'll be good. It's fun morning cardio!"

You grimaced at the chirpy tone he had taken on. 'Fun morning cardio'... how insufferable.

Feeling Carlos loosen his grip, you yanked your ankle back and got on your knees, sinking down on the soft mattress. "Carlos," You murmured, hands travelling up his arms as you leaned in.

Carlos narrowed his eyes, quickly knowing you were up to something with that sweet tone of yours.

"Baby, name the better cardio. A morning run or..." You trailed off, hand travelling down his arm and past his thigh, resting dangerously close to his crotch. "... morning fun?"

Carlos let out a dramatic sigh but he couldn't keep the quirk of his lips at bay. He stretched out his thick arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he fully pulled you over him. A quick nudge to your knees left you straddling him.

"More energy burnt," you murmured in the venture of a fake persuasion even though you already had the answer. Carlos' hand reached out to push your hair behind your ears before landing on the soft pillows of your lips. Nervously you inhaled, "And a whole lot more pleasure."

You stared at Carlos. Taking in those puppy brown eyes, the warmth of his skin, those God-made eyelashes, and each little freckle mixed with the burden of racing on his face. It was the first day of summer break and even though Carlos was pulling you out of bed to work out in the morning, you couldn't help but be a little thankful. You missed him. You had both been so busy lately and it felt like you hadn't seen each other in months.

"What's on your mind, cariño?" Carlos whispered, thumb still trailing the shape of your lips as those very same brown eyes searched yours.

"Nothing. I just missed you. And your stupid morning cardio," You rolled your eyes. "Is that a crime?"

"Then I'm guilty as charged," Carlos confessed, not missing the softening of your eyes as he held you tighter against him. "All I've been thinking about since the race at home is coming back to you."

Carlos' home race in Spain was the last time you had met before long-distance had embedded it's nasty claws into you once again

"Yeah?" You whispered, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. "Anything in particular?"

Carlos took a deep breath in, your signature fragrance engulfing him. Goodness, were you intoxicating. "Well... there was picnics, breakfast, golf, and the beach on the agenda. And... morning fun."

A gasp left your mouth as Carlos fell back first onto the mattress, bringing his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that difference but the need, the love, the softness, and the brutal passion was suddenly pouring into every fibre of your being.

Your hands fell around his neck and hair, nose gliding near his as Carlos continued to ravage your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans escaping your lips. His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your burning skin exactly where the small freckles and bumps he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Carlos' ears as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled kisses down base of your skin.

You gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Carlos' bulge.

"Ah, mierda," Carlos cursed, feeling his cock throb in his shorts. His eyes fluttered shut, hands returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Carlos' clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Carlos," you moaned his name in his ear.

God, what were you two? Sex-crazed teenagers? Dry humping on each other like rabbits in heat.

"Hermosa," Carlos panted, eyebrows strained with the urge to cum yet give you all the pleasure he could. "I need... I need..." he breathed, "I need to be in you, fuck." His entire body shuddered with a sharp arousal while his cock could feeling your thin underwear becoming useless and drenched. It was as thin as his patience was wearing.

You made a poor attempt to nod, releasing a hand from his neck. You briefly lifted your hips, pushing your panties to the side. In doing so, your breath hitches as you feel your sensitive folds glide past your fingers.

"Oh, fuck," Carlos blubbered, losing himself in seeing your bare pussy and your reaction. "Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," He encouraged breathlessly, attempting to shove off his shorts with one hand.

Carlos watched in torture as you pushed your fingers into your warm walls, body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you, "Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, moving one hand down your hips, skimming past your burning thigh before reaching the small bundle of nerves situated near your hand.

"A little faster, baby," Carlos said, "You're already so fucking wet. Pump those fingers... let me see how much you missed me."

You were already moaning in a haze at the praises leaving his lips, pushing your fingers in faster, unable to see how your engorged folds took them in as your eyes focused on the ceiling. But the moment you felt the pad of Carlos' thumb on your clit, you had given up every ounce of respect you had for yourself.

"Oh, shit, oh shit," you cursed, hips bucking up at his action. Your eyes shut tightly. The white light of ecstasy felt close. Your hand sped up faster, your hips went against your fingers and his thump with a more brutal force, feeling his aching cock bounce under you... Christ, you were going to cum. And hard.

The light... so close...

And just like that, it was gone.

You snapped your eyes open, falling to your pussy to see Carlos' hand retreating. "Mierda... no, baby, Carlos, " you cursed without looking at his face. But the moment you did, you understood him.

His hooded eyes told you everything. The throbbing his aching cock was bringing him, his slurred state of mind, and his firm desire to make you cum on his cock.

You kept your eyes on him, savouring the hiss falling from his lips as your took his cock out of his underwear. You gave a small smile, guiding his angry member to your puffy folds. You both released hitched moans when you rubbed your pussy against his cock.

You watched as Carlos purposely lifted his hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your body convulse for a brief second. Fucking hell. That was enough for the both of you. Cumming just by rubbing yourselves on each other was equally as worse as cumming by dry humping each other.

You pressed your lips together, pushing his cock slowly into your pussy. Christ, he was always so big. Thick and pulsing in your hands, stretching your pussy out no matter how many times you made love as if it were the first time.

Carlos groaned, both hands firmly placed on your hips, head falling back onto the bed headboard. God, it had been so long. He missed your touch everyday. But the feeling of his cock in your pussy... he thought about it every second of every day.

You pushed your hips down flat, ensuring Carlos bottomed out. You groaned at the full feeling of his cock in you, eyeing the small bulge in your stomach. "Fuck, you fill me up so well, baby," you praised.

Carlos moaned in response. "Ride me baby. You know I like when you ride me."

You managed a smile, taking off the singlet you had slept in. The self control Carlos had for your breasts was little. Especially, when they bounced in front of him like they were right now. His hands almost immediately shot out, groping the soft mounds with all his might.

Immersed in your tits, his body trembled when you rose your hips and slammed down on his cock, repeating the movement again. "Ah, shit," Carlos cussed, drunk on your pussy.

You ground your hips forward as you rode his cock, stimulating the pure pleasure of grinding on one another. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Carlos' hand reach towards your clit. Your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

Carlos intently watched you, rubbing your clit in soft circles. He could see you slowly fall apart, the fast rhythm of your hips slowing down and becoming sporadic. Your body was shaking with pleasure, your hands reaching towards his thick biceps.

He continued your work for you, lifting your hips with his one hand on your waist. He grunted, feeling you clench around his cock. "Cum... cum for me," he beckoned, increasing the speed of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit.

He smiled at the complete lost look that had fallen on your face. Your body jerked and convulsed over him, your brain unable to control it any longer. Your climax hit you hard as he denied your previous one not too long ago. Your whine was high pitched and dazed. You were completely lost in pleasure.

Your pleasure only fuelled his own. Your walls were holding his cock like a vice, clamping down on him. You could feel his throbbing cock overstimulating your sensitive pussy.

Carlos groaned at the feel of his twitching cock in your walls. He panted, hips racing to chase the urge to cum. "Yes, yes, yes," he mumbled, falling victim to your praises falling from your soft lips and the clench of your pussy.

You both groaned when you felt the hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. HIs hips stuttered, faltering against yours as you took every last drop from his cock.

Carlos buried his chin into your neck, riding out his last few moments of his climax. "Fuck," he mumbled, letting out a small exhale as he moved his head back and looked at you. He laughed softly at your tired look. He placed a few lingering kisses across your neck, coming to your lips last. "I love you," he murmured against them.

You smiled gently. "Forever?" you asked.

"Forever," Carlos confirmed, placing a kiss on your forehead. Slowly, he removed his softening cock from your pussy. You both watched his cum mixed with your spill out of you.

You looked up at Carlos, eyeing the dark look on his face. You sighed. "Morning fun or not, give me at least ten minutes. If not thirty!"

Carlos chuckled, moving out from under you and standing in front of you in an unbecoming state that would make his closest friends laugh at him. He swooped you into his arms making you yelp. "Let's take a shower. I'll clean you."

You raised a brow, hands hung around his neck. "Just cleaning? That doesn't sound like you," you retorted.

Carlos smirked, walking you to the bathroom. "You're right. I'll clean you, fuck you, and clean you again."

Oh…

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[criminalamnesia]

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

[cherrygirlfriend]

stepbro!rafe using a vibrator on reader

warnings: smut, stepcest, DUBCON, blackmail MDNI wc: 1.5k i've never written stepbro rafe before but i got this idea and wanted to give it a try??? so i have no idea how this is going to turn out but hopefully halfway decent

"rafeee, can you get my charger? it's in the top drawer of my nightstand!" you called up from downstairs, making your stepbrother roll his eyes.

"fucking get it yourself!"

"the food's gonna burn!"

despite you being on the first floor, rafe could hear the whiney tone in your voice, and almost picture the way your lip bottom lip would be pulled in with that despicable pout that managed to get you everything from both his father and your mother, and so, begrudgingly he opened the door to your bedroom.

he rounded the corner of your four-poster bed, bending to open the top drawer of your nightstand, spotting your charger on top of a bunch of your other shit, and letting out a small scoff as he threw the charger onto the bed.

but when rafe spotted a small key peeking out from underneath some stupid fashion magazine, his interest was piqued; he didn't even need to pick it up to know what it went to. it was the bottom drawer of your nightstand, him having an identical nightstand in his own bedroom, and knowing the almost scandalous contents of his own bottom drawer made him curious as to what you could be hiding in yours.

he picked it up, observing it for a moment before slamming the top drawer closed, swiftly putting the key in the lock and twisting it open. when he pulled it open, at first it appeared as if nothing was in it, but he knew better. he pulled the false bottom off, throwing it onto the bed, and when rafe's eyes fell onto what was in your nightstand, he couldn't help the grin on his face.

some of the contents were pretty tame; a pile of notebooks that he assumed were your old diaries, some weed, and some adderall that he knew you used to pop like fucking skittles back when you were in high school and had a big test coming up.

but his eyes widened slightly when he spotted the bottle of lube and the small, pale pink bullet-shaped vibrator; sure, he knew you had your vices and you weren't an innocent girl like you led your mother to believe, but you'd always been kind of a prude; you'd never let any of your old boyfriends mark you up even back when you'd been in high school like most girls that were too horny to even realize, and even now, he saw your face flush whenever there was a fucking sex scene on television and you conveniently looked down at your phone for the duration of it.

what really struck his eye was the stack of polaroids he knew you'd taken with the instax mini camera ward had gotten you for christmas, and when he picked up the stack and turned them around, only the first image was enough to cause his jaw to slack slightly.

it was taken on a timer, and you were kneeling on your bed, your hand splayed on your neck, wearing a sheer pink lingerie dress, lacy pink panties covering your pussy while your nipples were covered by red, heart-shaped pasties.

he went through the polaroids, his eyes widening and his shorts tightening with each picture, shots of you wearing different lingerie sets, ones of you looking over your shoulder seductively while you were kneeling on the bed, showing off your ass in a pair of thongs, pictures taken where your tits were soaped up and just covered by your arms, ones-

"rafeee! did you find it?!"

he chuckled at your called-out question, so unaware of the things he had found, putting the polaroids back in the bottom drawer, "yeah yeah!" he called back out, but as he was starting to put the false bottom back in, he got an idea.

and so, before he put the false bottom back in the drawer, he slipped the bullet-shaped vibrator into his pocket.

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat; you had no idea where it could've gone, having used it literally that morning. even though you remembered putting it in its usual spot in the bottom drawer of your nightstand, it was nowhere to be seen.

you thought that maybe you'd accidentally left it on your bed; your bedding, now on the floor. maybe it was on your top drawer instead, the contents dumped on the floor next to it. now you were going through your bookshelf, your teeth biting into your bottom lip so harshly you could taste blood in your mouth.

it wasn't only that you didn't want anyone to find it; it was also that you were so fucking sexually frustrated. you'd already gotten yourself off in the morning, but still, everything even slightly sexual had caused you to press your legs firmly together to seek some relief.

you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat, and when you turned to look at who it was, you were faced with your stepbrother, a smug smile on his face.

"looking for something?" rafe said, holding up the pink device you'd been looking for, your eyes widening when they landed on it

"did you go through my stuff you psycho?!" you stomped to him, rafe holding the vibrator over his head and out of your reach when you tried grabbing it. "give it to me!"

"i don't think that's how you speak to someone when you want something from them." rafe tsked, his jaw clenched as he pressed you against your bedroom wall, his hand on your chin, making you look up at him, "see, you're supposed to ask nicely. didn't mommy teach you that?"

"what do you want, rafe?"

"you know, when i found this little thing," rafe tapped the small vibrator against your cheek, "i found some really interesting pictures." he grinned, your eyes widening, your heartbeat picking up, immediately knowing the pictures he was talking about.

rafe turned on the vibrator, letting it travel down your chest, until coming in contact with your clothed nipple, slowly, involuntarily pebbling under the vibrations, your stepbrother's breath hot on your face, an obvious tent in his sweatpants. "it would be such a shame if your mom saw them, you know?"

"they don't show my face..." you said with a small sniffle, your eyes starting to sting with tears, meanwhile you felt your cunt starting to get slick with arousal from the stimulation to your nipple.

"aw, she might be stupid but she's not an idiot. you really think she won't recognize that pretty little body? all those pretty marks and dots on your body. are you willing to risk it?"

rafe's hand started traveling lower, the vibrations trailing down your ribs and abdomen, causing you to tense up your muscles as you spoke, your teeth gritting together, "what do you want?"

"to own you."

rafe had you pinned down on your bed, your hands gripping onto your already crumpled sheets; your lacy panties clinging to your pussy, thoroughly soaked in your arousal, and you knew they were beyond saving.

your flimsy top had been pushed up to reveal your breasts, and he'd been using the vibrator on your poor pussy for an hour now, and somehow it had been the most excruciating yet exhilarating hour of your life.

"i can't..." you whined as rafe brought the vibrator to your clit, and even though it was covered by the soaking fabric, it felt as if there wasn't any barrier at all, the stimulation bringing you closer and closer to your third orgasm. "'s too much... feels too good…"

rafe let out a cruel laugh at that, only bringing up the volume of the vibrator, pressing it even firmly against your clit, causing you to let out a yelp that turned into a moan, roughly grabbing at the fat of your breast as he brought his face closer to your face.

"you're gonna take it." he smiled, pressing a small kiss between your breasts, before standing up. "keep it in place." rafe commanded, and you brought your hand to weakly hold the vibrator at your clit while he walked around your room, in search for something.

"what... what are you doing?" you mumbled, your mind hazy from the pleasure coursing through your body, your eyes widening when rafe turned around, holding your polaroid camera. "r-rafe?"

rafe walked towards the bed, turning on the camera as he kneeled over you, swatting your hand away from the vibrator, replacing it with his own. "this is gonna be your best picture yet."

before you could protest, you were blinded by the flash, trying to use your arm to cover up your eyes, the picture slowly coming out of the camera, and rafe set it down next to you on the bed while it slowly changed from black to a picture of your body, showing your bared tits and the soaked panties that had molded to the shape of your pussy, rafe's large, ringed hand holding the vibrator against your clit.

rafe turned off the vibrator, throwing it onto the bed, grabbing the photo, and shoving it into the pocket of his sweatpants, before leaning closer to your ear.

"i own you." he whispered roughly, before standing up and leaving your room.